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PUBLISHEES' NOTE. 



The volumes of Putnam's Hjlndt Book Series, planned 
to give practical information, compiled from the best author- 
ities, on all matters connected with home interests, have met 
with a wide-spread and enduring popularity. The publishers 
have reason to believe that a selection of some of the more 
important of these volumes, issued in more compact and less 
expensive form, and covering the essential requirements of 
every home circle in the departments of education, reading, 
house-furnishing, dress, emergencies, care of the sick, etc., 
will be found of service to thousands of households, and under 
this belief the American Home Book has been prepared. 



I 



THE 



American Home Book 



DIRECTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS FOR COOKING, DRESS, 

NURSING, EMERGENCIES, HOUSE FURNISHING, 

HOME EDUCATION, HOME READING, 

Etc., Etc. 



BY 

Charles Dudley Warner, George Cary Egqleston, Frank R. 

Stockton, Edward Everett Hale, Joseph Cook, 

George H. Hope, M.D., Lyman Abbott, 



j Frederick B. Perkins 

/ Etc., Etc., Etc. 



NEW YORK 

G. P. put:n^am's sons 

27 and 39 West 33d Street 



^^f. 

K^ 






i 



co]srTE:^TS. 



How TO Educate Yourself. 

By George Gary Eggleston. 

Hints for Home Reading. 

By Charles Dudley Warner, Fred. B. Perkins, Henry Ward 
Beecher, Edward Everett Hale, Joseph Cook, Lyman 
Abbott, etc., etc. 

The Home : Where it should be and What to put in it. 
By Frank R. and Marian Stockton. 

Hints on Dress. 

By Ethel C. Gale. 

What Shall We Eat? A Manual for Housekeepers. 

Till the Doctor Comes, and How to Help Him. 
By George H. Hope, M.D. 

A Manual op Nursing. Prepared for the Training School 
for Nurses attached to Bellevue Hospital. 




How TO Educate Yourself.- 



WITH OR WITHOUT MASTERS. 



BY 



GEO. GARY EGGLESTON. 




NEW YORK 
G. P. PUTNAM'S SON 
27 AND 29 West 23d Street 



Entered according to act of Congress, in tlie year 1872, bj" 

G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, 

In the OflJcw of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PREFACE. 



In preparing this little book, I have done the work 
conscientiously, whether it shall prove to be well or ill 
done. 

In every matter treated, I have given the advice I 
should give to a son or a brother — drawing my mate- 
rials from every available source. 

The narrow limits of the volume have compelled me 
to speak ex cathedra in many cases when I should have 
preferred to reverently cite authority, or to carefully 
state to the reader the premises fi'om which my con- 
clusions were drawn. 

If I have spoken dogmatically, however, I would have 
the student remember that the whole spirit of my 
teaching is that he should never accept blindly the 
authority of any man or of any book, and to this rale 
my own little volume certainly does not claim to be an 
exception. 

Brooklxn, Set^temoery 1872, G. C. E. 



1 



C OKTUNl 8, 



INTEODUCTIOK 

The Natubb and Puepose op the Book J 

CHAPi'Eit L 

HOW TO MARK OUT A COUESE OP STUDY. 

What to study — A Common Error 6 

What then, should be the Student's Course ? 8 

What are the Purposes of Education ? 8 

The Comparative Values of Various Studies 10 

Herbert Spencer's Classification 10 

The Factors involved 11 



CHAPTER n. 

COMMON SCHOOIi STXJDIES. 

The Waste of Time 15 

Of Geography 15 

How to study Geography 16 

Arithmetic 17 

The Study of E^glish 23 

The Failure of the Grammars 24 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGW 

How to study Grammar 26 

Pronunciation 27 

Spelling 27 

Learning the Meanings of Words 30 

The Structure of Sentences 32 

Higher English 34 



CHAPTER nL 

COIiLSGIATE STUDIES. 

What to study 42 

The Scientists and the Classicists 44 

The Question to be decided 47 



OHAPTEE IV. 

THE STUDY OF liANQTJAGES. 

The Comparative Values of Languages 49 

The Comparative Difficulty of learning them 50 

How to study Languages 51 

The Group System 52 

M. Marcel's System 53 

How to learn to read a Language 54 

The Time necessary 63 

Learning to understand the spoken Tongue 64 

Learning to speak the Language 70 

The Eobertsonian System 72 

CHAPTER V. 

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 

The Nature and Value of Mathematical Study 75 

The Processes 77 

The Order of Studies 77 

The Way to study Algebra 79 

A Way out of Difficulties 80 

Another Way out of Difficulties 81 



CONTENTS. VU 

PAGH 

Rules 82 

The other Mathematics 83 

CHAPTER VI. 

PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 

What Physics to study 88 

The Object sought 89 

How to study Physics 89 



CHAPTER Vn. 

MOKAIi AND INTETiT.F.CTTJAIi SCIENCE. 

The V&liie of this kind of Study 93 

The Cause of the Mistake 93 

The Value of these Studies as a Means of Culture 94 

Their Value as a Preparation for other Study 95 

The Practical Wisdom of theu- Teachings 96 

The Order and Methods of Study 99 

CHAPTER Vm. 

GENEBAL HEADING. 

Some Words of warning 104 

An Exception 107 

What to read 107 

Courses of Reading 110 

Some Good Rules 112 

Reading up ; 113 

Reading to cure Defects 11-4 

Reading to strengthen Strong Points 114 

Reading both Sides 115 

How Much of a Book to read 115 

Reading about Books ' 117 

Dangerous Reading 118 

A Schedule of Reading-matter 121 

Novel-reading 122 

The Reading of History 123 



Vm CONTENTS. 

PAoa 

Poetry 126 

Biography, etc. 127 

Dictionaries as Beading-matter 129 



CHAPTER IX 

HOW TO STUDY AND BEAD TO THE BEST ADVANTAGE. 

A Practical Education 132 

Economy of Time 133 

Wliat to do with the Memory • . . . . 134 

How to cultivate the Memory 136 

Things that impair the Memory 136 

Memorandum Books, etc 139 

Mechanical Memory 141 

When to read 142 

How much to read 142 

The proper Time of Day for reading and study 143 

Chought-study 144 

The Apportionment of Time 148 

How Many Studies should be carried on at once 150 



ERRATtJM. 



On p. 52, M. Marcel's work is said to be out of print. This, it 
appears, is not now the case, as the book is included in Mcs<us 
D. Appleton & Co.'s Catalogue. 



HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 



INTKODUCTION. 

THE NATURE AND PURPOSE OF THE BOOK. 

Lest the purpose and meaning of this manual 
shall be misunderstood, let me say at the outset that 
I have no patent system of easy education to present. 
I can point out no " royal road to learning," for the 
reason that there is none, and in the very nature of 
things there never can be one. 

And yet the sole purpose of this volume is to make 
the road to learning and culture somewhat easier than 
it is, particularly in the case of students who have no 
master. 

Every educated man is, in some sense, self-educated. 
No teacher, whatever his abilities may be, can force an 
education upon an unwilhng pupil. Furthermore, no 
teacher can educate a persistently idle pupil. He can 
bridge over difficulties ; he can point out the way ; he 
can advise and direct ; he can stimulate the student to 
activity ; but the real work must be done by the stu- 
dent himself, if it be done at alL 

There is no denying the fact that regular teachers 
and regular schools are necessary to some students and 



2 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

very valuable to all, and I have no sympathy v^rhatever 
with the prevalent cant which teaches that the men 
commonly called " self-made '* are greater, or better, or 
wiser than those whose acquirements and culture have 
been obtained through more regular channels. Dr. 
Franklin was a wise man and an able one, and Mr. 
Greeley has achieved a grand success in his profession. 
Elihu Burritt learned a good deal about languages 
while yet at the forge, and Eobert Collyer has not for- 
gotten how to make a horse-shoe while he has been 
learning how to preach an eloquent sermon. But all 
these men, and others like them, would have been even 
more successful, or at any rate their success would 
have come to them earlier in life, if they had had the 
advantages of a regular training. The mistake com- 
monly made is that of attributing their greatness to 
their want of schooling, when in point of fact they are 
great in spite of that want, because they have by untir- 
ing industry supplied the defect, doing without teachers 
that which they could have done much more easily and 
much more perfectly with them. Hugh Miller wrought 
out his knowledge of geology from the rocks in which 
he worked as a craftsman ; but it does not follow that 
the best road to geological lore lies through the busi- 
ness of a quarryman or a stonecutter. 

Let no student delude himself with the idea that he 
is above the need of instructors. If he can attend 
good schools he should do so by all means, and his 
education so acquired will be much more satisfactory, 
much more perfectly rounded than it ever could be 
otherwise. 

But if attendance upon school instruction be impos- 
sible, or if the student be cut short in it, there is no oc- 



THE NATUEE AND PURPOSE OF THE BOOK. 3 

casion for him to despair, or to abandon the work of 
educating himself. If he is to be educated at all, he 
must educate himself in any case, and while the task 
would be much easier in school than out, it is not im- 
possible of accomplishment wholly without teachers. 

The chief service which a teacher is called upon to 
render an earnest student, is that of guiding and di- 
recting his studies ; advising him what branches to 
pursue, and how to follow them with the best results. 
And herein lies the chief advantage which the earnest 
student in school has over the earnest student out of 
school. The one has his course • marked out for him, 
and is instructed carefully in the readiest and surest 
means of mastering it. The other must mark out his 
own course, with such advice as he can get, and must 
pursue it after methods of his own devising, for the 
most part. Again, the one has, presumably, more time 
at his disposal, and better facilities every way, than the 
other, and therefore has less need to know how to 
economize his time closely in the selection and pursuit 
of his studies. 

It is to cure precisely these defects that this book is, 
in the main, designed. My purpose is to supply, as far 
as possible, the place of a teacher to teacherless stu- 
dents, guiding them to a proper selection of subjects 
for study, and suggesting the best methods of pursuing 
each. 

To this end I shall make free use of other people'a 
experience, as well as my own, giving that which seems 
to me best, in every case, whether the idea be new or 
old, my own or some other person's. The plan of the 
book is a simple one. Each class of study will be ex- 
amined as to its nature, its value, the peculiar advan- 



4 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

tages arising from the information contained in it, and 
from the culture it brings. Its difficulty, and all other 
circumstances bearing upon the student's selection, wiL\ 
be placed fairly before him, so that he may choose ad- 
visedly the branches to which he will give his atten- 
tion. 

After this, in each case, the best methods of pursu- 
ing the study will be given, together with such other 
hints, suggestions and warnings as every earnest and 
competent teacher finds frequent occasion to give. 

In regard to reading and study outside of text-books, 
a similar plan will be pursued. I shall endeavor to 
guide the student in the selection of his literature by 
pointing out the nature and value of different classes 
of books, the kind of culture and the kind of informa- 
tion each gives, and to prepare him, as far as practica- 
ble, to make a judicious selection and arrangement of 
his reading matter for himself. 

The book, as will be seen at a glance, is intended 
principally for students who must educate themselves 
outside of schools and colleges ; but I am persuaded 
that even students whose advantages are of the best, 
will find many things to help them in these pages, and 
I write with the hope that my little book will supply 
to this class of students a kind of guidance of which I 
myself often felt the need both in school and at college. 

A work of this kind must, in the nature of things, 
be very imperfect, because of the narrowness of ita 
limits, if for no other reason ; but having had frequent 
occasion to counsel and aid persons engaged in the 
work of self-education, I come to the task now, know- 
ing pretty well the nature of the difficulties which be- 



THE NATUKE AND PURPOSE OF THE BOOK. 5 

set this class of students. If the pages which follow 
shall be found to supply to them at all adequately the 
guidance and counsel they need, I shall be abundantly 
satisfied. 



CHAPTEB I. 

sow TO MARK OUT A. COUItSE Or STUDY. 

WHAT TO STUDY. 

The first point to be decided in beginning every edu- 
cation is what to study. The student who can go to 
school and to college has the question answered for 
him, though not always wisely ; but he who must de- 
cide it for himself, is usually puzzled by the multiplicity 
of possible studies, and by his ignorance both of their 
character and of his own wants. And yet it is of the 
utmost importance that he should decide this question 
correctly. An error here is always serious, and some- 
times the failure to master a badly-chosen subject leads 
to the abandonment of all effort in despair. 

A COMMON ERROR. 

It is a common error of people studying without a 
teacher to suppose that they must follow the course of 
the schools, taking not only every subject, but every 
text-book, in the order of school arrangement. To see 
the folly of this it is only necessary to remember that 
the student without a master has less time than the 
schoolboy to give to study, (else he might himself go 



now TO MARK OUT A COURSE OF STUDY. 7 

to school,) and that his progress will naturally be some- 
what slower than that of the pupils for whom the 
school course is intended, aided as they are by system- 
atic instruction. Besides all this, there is a great deal 
of time consumed in the schools over exercises that are 
certainly not necessary or even useful to an earnest stu- 
dent, so resolved upon securing an education as to un- 
dertake it without the ordinary helps. This is due 
partly perhaps to the fact that there are idle pupils in 
every school whose first need is to be made active in 
study, even if it be done by otherwise useless exer- 
cises ; but much more largely, doubtless, to the want of 
judicious condensation in the text-books. The best- 
cultivated men in America, for instance, unless their 
avocations lead them to make geographical study a spe- 
cialty, do not remember enough of their bulky, grad- 
ed school text-books on the subject, to fill more than a 
score of these pages. They remember all that is worth 
remembering. They know all the leading facts, per- 
haps, but these might have been written in the smallest 
of school-books and learned in a few weeks, while every 
schoolboy plods for years through volume after volume 
full of petty geographical details of no consequence in 
themselves, never remembered, and certainly not worth 
the learning to a young man who has his education to 
get without assistance from others. And the same 
thing is true in a greater or less degree of almost every 
other branch of school study. The school course is in- 
tended for pupils who have time and opportunity to 
master it. It has much that is alDiost wholly useless in 
it, and it is certainly not suited, as a whole, to students 
who must be their own teachers. 



8 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 



WHAT THEN, SHOULD BE THE STUDENt's COURSE ? 

Certainly not the same in every case ; hardly the 
same in any two cases. The question is one that must 
be decided with reference to the age, capacity and cir- 
cumstances of each individual. The one who has 
hardly any leisure cannot master many things, and his 
slender list of studies should embrace only the ones 
most desirable for him to follow, while his fellow, whose 
leisure is more abundant, should make use of it in pur- 
suing a wider course. It is very true that in all know- 
ledge there is profit, but all knowledge is not equally 
profitable, and the man whose education must be a par- 
tial one at best, should aim to make it embrace such 
parts of the whole as will best serve the purposes of 
education in his particular case. And to enable us to 
ascertain what will do this, it is necessary that we shall 
inquire at the outset — 

WHAT ARE THE PURPOSES OF. EDUCATION ? 

Different people have different ideas of life, and ac- 
cordingly they pursue their studies with all kinds of ends 
in view. Men sometimes work pretty dihgently over 
their books, with no higher motive than a desire to 
make a creditable appearance in society. Young peo- 
ple often have an ambition to appear learned with no 
great desire to be so, and so seek just enough of erudi- 
tion to enable them to talk of things they know very 
httle about, as if they understood them. 

But education has two definite purposes to serve, 
and one or both of these should be in the mind of the 
student from first to last. The object most commonly 



HOW TO MARK OUT A COURSE OF STUDY. D 

Bought by the student is practical utility. He studies 
because learning and the intellectual culture it brings 
with it are things that have a market value ; because an 
educated man can make money more readily and more 
surely than an uneducated one can ; because his educa- 
tion will open up to him more agreeable business pur- 
suits than an untaught man can follow. To a certain 
extent every man in this busy country of ours is in- 
fluenced by these considerations. We have no recog- 
nized aristocracy, and no entailed estates, and therefore 
no man, among us, can be sure in advance that he will 
never need to make his own way in the world. 

With the people for whose benefit chiefly I write, 
those who are compelled to educate themselves without 
teachers, the practical utility of education is often of 
course the main consideration ; but even these would do 
well to keep before them the higher pui-pose of culture, 
which is to fit the man for his most perfect work in life, 
to make him, as nearly as his natural capacity will allow, 
a completely cultuved man, balanced, trained to the use 
of all his faculties and able to command their highest 
and best exercise at will. That even people without 
the advantages of academic training may accomplish 
something like this i^ sufliciently seen in the fact that 
the present editor of the Atlantic Monthly, a scholar, a 
poet, an author and a critic, with certainly very few if 
any superiors in America, in the matter of refined and 
varied culture, left school to learn a trade at the age of 
ten, and has never had a master since. 

Everybody is not a Mr. Howells, however, and few 
young men can hope to accomplish all that he has ; but 
failing in that, it is well that the student shall feel the 
high possibilities of his life and appreciate the nobler 



10 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

purposes of his work. While he labors to fit himself 
for his business, he will work none the less earnestly 
for feeling that his study is making him more and 
more the man nature intended that he should be. 

THE COMPARATIVE VALUES OF VARIOUS STUDIES. 

Whether the student contemplates a brief course or 
an extended one, it is equally necessary for him to se- 
lect his studies with reference first to their comparative 
intrinsic values, and secondly with reference to their 
comparative values to him individually. To do this in- 
telligently he must bear in mind that there are two dis- 
tinct uses of study. The first of these is the acquisition 
of 'knowledge, and the second is intellectual training. 

Each is good in its kind. Each has a practical value. 
The man who knows arithmetic finds daily use for the 
mere knowledge he has gained, in all the afikirs of life. 
But the value of the mental discipline he has received 
in the study of arithmetic, while it may be less appa- 
rent, is no less real than the other. And this is true 
too of every other branch of a well-ordered education. 
Each is doubly useful. Each helps to traiii the mind 
to proper action, and each furnishes some knowledge 
which is of use in itself. But all are not equally valua- 
ble in either of these ways, and the proportion of time 
and attention to be given to each should be regulated 
with reference to their comparative importance. 

HERBERT SPENCEr's CLASSIFICATION. 

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his work on education, has 
attempted to make an elaborate classification of the va- 
rious subjects of study, and to arrange them in the order 



HOW TO MARK OUT A COURSE OF STUDY. 11 

of their relative comparative importance, a task that he 
is as well quahfied as anybody else, x^erhaps, to perform, 
but one in which even he has only partially succeeded. 
Such a classification in a manual like this, intended 
mainly for students without masters, would be mani- 
festly impracticable, and hence nothing of the kind is 
attempted. I prefer to offer some plain suggestions 
which will aid the student to ascertain for himself just 
what he wants. 

THE TACTOKS INVOLVED. 

In the first place, then, it is necessary to take into ac- 
count your age and whatever other circumstances there 
may be which tend to hmit you in point of time. 

If you are already grown, with the cares of business 
about you, your time for self-education is necessarily 
very limited, and your selection of studies must of 
course be made with reference to this fact, so that you 
may not spend any portion of your scanty leisure upon 
that which is not absolutely essential. Take an inven- 
tory of the time at your disposal, as you would of your 
capital before entering upon business, in order that you 
may invest it wisely. 

It is next necessary to ask youi'self what your practi- 
cal necessities are in the matter of learning ; what your 
business in life is, or is to be ; what information you 
will especially need in that business, and what studies 
will give you the necessary knowledge. And this is 
clearly a point worthy of attention in any case, whether 
the education is to be abundant or scanty. To the man 
who intends to make himself a physician, for instance, 
a knowledge of chemistry is of prime importance, 
while the higher mathematics furnish him very httle of 



12 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELF. 

any immediate value. To the one who would be au en « 
gineer, on the other hand, mathematics is the one thin^ 
especially needful. I am speaking now with reference 
solely to the value of the information gained in these 
studies, and not of their value as intellectual exercises. 
Decide then, secondly, what you want in the matter of 
learning — what studies will give you the information 
you most need for the accomphshment of your ends, 
whatever these may be. 

The third point to be determined in settling upon a 
course of study is more difficult, and in the very nature 
of things can never be very accurately decided in the be- 
ginning by the student himself. Simply stated, the 
question is, " What mental discipline do I need ?" and 
it is one which should recur at every step of the stu- 
dent's progress. It is one which every cultivated man 
asks himself constantly. It governs the already accom- 
plished scholar in the selection of his books for reading 
even more than it influences the student in marking out 
his course of study, and it can never be wholly deter- 
mined in advance. Just here comes in the higher pur- 
pose of education, the making of a well-balanced man. 
It is the training of all the faculties to their fullest capa- 
city, the development of all the forces, the just subjec- 
tion of each to the whole, that fits the man for his most 
perfect work, and most completely fulfills the purpose 
of education; and the nearer we come to this ideal con- 
dition of perfect and symmetrical development, in body, 
mind and morals, the better are we prepared for the 
successful pursuit of our especial businesses in life. 

But aside from this, in nearly every profession and 
trade there exists a necessity for mental discipline in 
specific directions. A. special intellectual development 



HOW TO MAEK OUT A COURSE OF STUDY. 13 

is of practical value, just as the possession of a partic- 
ular kind of information is, and to this extent the espe- 
cial needs of the student in the matter of intellectual 
culture as a preparation for a specific business career 
may be decided in advance with tolerable accuracy. In 
a large degree, indeed, the culture made necessary by 
merely economic considerations depends upon the 
character of the student himself. If he be of dreamy 
mood, visionary, absent, lacking control of his intellect- 
ual operations, the mathematics and the physical 
sciences will tend of course to correct the fault, and 
wiU have a value to him which they would otherwise 
lack. And so with every other branch of study. Each 
may serve to correct some intellectual fault, to supply 
an intellectual want, or to strengthen the man in a 
point of weakness. And in deciding what and how 
much to study, reference must of course be had to the 
peculiar intellectual needs that are to be suppHed. Let 
the student, then, after he has taken a fair inventory of 
the time at his disposal, ask himself— 
1st. What knovjledge do I most need f 
2nd. What culture do I most need ? 
And when he shall have answered these questions, his 
way will be clear to the marking out of a course of 
study suited to his especial case. 

But let him remember that in aU knowledge there is 
profit, and that the wider his cultui'e is, the more nearly 
he wiU come to the perfection of manhood at which he 
should aim, the better prepared he will be to do his 
best work. WhHe he must consider first his actual and 
immediate educational wants, he should neier lose 
Bight of the fact that the course of study he has 
marked out for himself will supply these but imper- 



14 1[0W TO EDUCATE TOUKSELP. 

fectly, and that other knowledge and other culture are 
desirable, not only in a general way, but also as bear- 
ing directly upon his success in life. With this in view 
he will find abundant opportunity, while pursuing hia 
prescribed course of study and reading, to widen it 
somewhat at times; and by some of the modes of econ- 
omizing time and labor suggested elsewhere in this vol- 
ume, he may almost certainly enlarge the range of both 
the information and the culture he has prescribed for 
himself. 

For the sake of convenience let me briefly sum up 
the spirit of what I have said thus far, in direct sen- 
tences : 

Take an inventory of the time at your disposal, that 
you may know how much you can study. 

Do not attempt too much^ lest you become discouraged 
and fail altogether. 

On the other hand, remember that within the limits 
imposed by your circumstances, the more you shall mas- 
ter the better educated you will be. 

Select your studies with reference first to the value of 
the learning they will give you, and secondly to the value 
of the culture their mastery will bring. 

Give the preference to those branches which will tend 
most directly to fit you for your special business, but 
enlarge your culture and information as opportunity shall 
ofiTer. 

Such are the general principles that should guide the 
student in marking out his course of study, and to a 
large extent each must apply them for himself ; but 
some more specific directions may be of service, and in 
fulfillment of my design to make this manual as largely 
useful as possible, I give them in their proper places. 



CHAPTER II. 

COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 

THE WASTE OF TIME. 

It is a singular fact, perhaps, but a fact nevertheless 
which everybody except the teachers themselves recog- 
nizes, that there is a larger proportion of useless work 
expended in the common sehools than anywhere else. 
Many of the branches taught there are wholly useless 
in themselves, and nearly all the others are so overload- 
ed with unimportant details that the pupil loses sight 
of their real purpose and quits them at last, wearied 
with misspent labor, having gained but little of the in- 
formation or culture they should have brought him. 

OF GEOGRAPHY 

I have already spoken. Pupils spend years in study- 
ing text-books not one tenth part of which is worth 
learning, while not one twentieth of their contents is 
ever remembered. As soon as the examinations are 
over the student begins to forget — forgetting much 
more rapidly than he learned — and in forgetting, he 
sometimes loses the useful with the useless parts. 

Clearly there is too much geography taught. The 
books are too large and too numerous. They have alto- 



16 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

gether too many details in tliem, and moreover, no 
book whatever is necessary to the learning of all that 
anybody except a professional geographer or a naviga- 
tor needs to know of geography. A brief examination 
of the globes and a few weeks' earnest study of good 
maps will serve to give the student a fair general know- 
ledge of geography, and this is all that anybody not 
professionally pursuing geographical studies ever re- 
members or needs to remember. Reference to a map is 
always readily made when fuller information on any 
particular point is wanted, just as reference to a dic- 
tionary or encyclopaedia is, and to attempt to learn and 
remember all the facts of geography in detail is almost 
as absurd as it would be to commit an unabridged dic- 
tionary to memory as an introduction to English. 

HOW TO STUDY GEOGRAPHY. 

I say, therefore, to the student without a master, 
waste no time in the study of geographies. Learn the 
general outlines and relative localities of seas and con- 
tinents by examining the globe, and then give yourself 
to a progressive study of maps until you are familiar 
with the chief facts of geography — that is to say, till 
you know the relative localities and the general outlines 
of all the countries, the nationality and general features 
of the chief rivers, ranges of mountains^ etc., and the 
places of the world's great cities, etc., on the maps. 

Take first a general map of each continent ; then one of 
each country ; and finish 'your study Of the subject by a 
careful scrutiny of the State and local maps of your 
own country. When you shall have done this you will 
have a good general knov/ledge of geography, and very 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 17 

few people liavo more than this, or need more. An oc- 
casional reference to good maps, afterwards will perserve 
and greatly add to the information thus gained. 

ARITHMETIC, 

of course, everybody needs to know, and it cannot 
•be learned too thoroughly. But in the ordinary way 
of teaching and learning it, a good deal of time is wasted, 
and the best results are rarely secured. There is a 
good deal of unnecessary matter in the text-books, and 
that which is necessary is too often so put as to lead 
the student to lose sight of its proper purpose, and 
thus lose the advantage he should gain from its study. 
Let the student bear in mind from first to last that 
everything in Mathematics is fact ; that every fact 
there has been discovei^ed and nothing invented. Let 
him remember that what are commonly called rules are 
not rules at all, but that each is merely a statement of 
one of the ways in which certain principles may be 
applied to the solution of certain classes of problems, 
and that more than one of these principles may be used 
in almost every case. Let me explain this a little 
more at length. The student finds many pages de- 
voted to common fractions, and a like number to deci- 
mals. Under each head is arranged a number of pro- 
blems, together with a rule for working them. By all 
the arrangements made for him, by the classifications 
of the book, by the traditions of the schoolroom, and 
by every other direct and indirect means, he is forced 
to the conclusion that some of these problems are of a 
kind to be solved by the one rule, while the others are 
of a totally different character and can be wrought only 
upon the other principle. Of course any teacher, upon 



18 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

being questioned, would tell a student that this is not 
the case ; but there is really nothing in the ordinary way 
of learning and teaching arithmetic to suggest such 
questioning, and, with one remarkable exception, I 
have never known a teacher who thought it necessary 
or desirable to explain the point without waiting for 
accident to suggest inquiry I would have the student 
remember constantly that Addition, Subtraction, Multi- 
plication and Division, are the only fundamental rules of 
arithmetic, and that all the others are but appUcations 
of these. He should bear in mind also that the various 
problems given may each be solved in more than one 
way — that their solution is not the object of his study ; 
that their solution is not a matter of any importance 
whatever, except as it exercises him in the application 
of the principles involved and verifies the correctness 
and accuracy of his understanding. With these points 
established in his mind, let him go to work to learn 
each of the principles involved, — that is to say, let him 
pass nothing that he does not fully understand, let him 
accept nothing as true until he fully understands the 
fact that it is true, and the reason why it is true ; or, if 
he must pass it, let him refer to it again and again until 
he does understand it. He will then need no rules, and 
will not be dependent, in after hfe, upon a fallacious 
memory for rules, which, even if remembered correctly, 
might readily be misapplied by one who had failed to 
master the principles involved. 

Teachers sometimes tell pupils all this, and some of 
them succeed in impressing the fact upon the minds 
of those under their tuition, but in altogether too many 
cases their system of teaching makes it easy for the 
parrot pupil to make a better show than the one who 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 19 

labors over principles, and thus there is an immediate 
aiid constant temptation before every pupil to do that 
which the teacher is continually cautioning him 
not to do. On the other hand there are teachers whose 
indolence or incompetence leads them to omit even 
the verbal caution, while the student without a mas- 
ter stands in especial need of the warning. 

I remember a schoolfellow of my own who went 
with me through the arithmetic, solved every problem, 
knew every rule, and was regarded as fellow of the 
best of us. His practice was to commit each rule to 
memory, and to follow it clause by clause in the work- 
ing of every problem under it. He passed good exam- 
inations, of course, and afterwards graduated well in a 
commercial college. I happened to be with him ten 
years later, when he was attempting to fill the post oi 
bill clerk in a commission house. His calculations for 
several days went unchallenged, as the bookkeeper 
was overburdened with other duties and supposed him 
competent. Before his first week ended, however, he 
came hurriedly from his desk to ask confidentially 
about a point in his practical arithmetic. He had to 
calculate the total value of a given number of bushels 
of corn at $1.08 jper bushel. He had set the figures 
down in the ordinary way, had multiphed by the eight, 
and now wanted to know what to do with the nought ! 
Of course in school, while his " rules " were fresh in his 
mind, no such difficulty had bothered him ; but now, 
remembering no verbal rule for the case, he was unable 
to work this simple problem in multiplication. The 
case is an extreme one, doubtless, but it serves to illus 
trate the importance of the precept I am endeavoring 
to impress upon the reader. I would have him under- 



20 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELP. 

stand each operation as he makes it — comprehend each 
principle before he undertakes to use it, and know why 
he does each thing as soon as he learns that he is to do 
it. To do this by means of books only is often diffi- 
cult. The principles are all explained, of course, in 
every good arithmetic, but the explanations are not al- 
ways sufficiently lucid, and the student often fall? into 
the delusion of thinking that he understands a matter 
because he can repeat the explanation, even when this 
explanation is by no means clear to his comprehension. 
To remedy this there is nothing so good as a resort to 
object lessons. I have had occasion to explain difficul- 
ties of this class to a good many pupils, many of them 
advanced far beyond the point where the difficulty oc- 
curred; luid I have found a resort to the simplest forms 
of numbers, and an explanation by means of actual, 
tangible objects, far better than anything else possible. 

In one instance, I remember, a bright, keen-witted 
girl who was studying algebra came to me for assist- 
ance. I explained the problem in hand so that she 
could work it readily, but I saw that she only dimly 
comprehended my most labored explanations of the 
principles involved, and I was not satisfied with this. 
1 questioned her to ascertain where her difficulty lay, 
and was led presently to ask her : 

" Do you understand the multiphcation and division 
of fractions ?" 

" Algebraic fractions ?" she asked. 

" Fractions of any kind," said I. " Do you know, 
for instance, why the division of any quantity by a frac- 
tion gives a result larger than the dividend ?" 

" No," she said, she had never been able to under- 
stand that, and although she had gone conscientiously 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 21 

fchrouf^fh the arithmetic to the entire satisfaction of her 
teachers, she had never felt that she understood the 
principles involved in the working of fractions. 

I took a score of apples, and undertook to teach her 
in a single lesson what years of schooling had left un- 
taught. 

I s] lowed her how every reduction in the size of the 
divisor increased the result. Going downward gradu- 
ally, i reached one as the divisor, which gave, of 
course, just twice as large a result as two had given. 
Then with a knife I made halves of the apples, and 
taking one of these in my hand, as a divisor, I was 
about to continue the explanation, when she fairly 
clapped her hands for joy. She saw the principle and 
understood now not only this, but every other fact she 
had J earned concerning fractions, because she now 
knew practically just what fractions were. She at once 
adoptt^d the plan with herself, and she has mastered the 
higher mathematics without a teacher, and almost with- 
out a serious difficulty. 

I gxve the incident because it illustrates what I 
mean, shows the value of object-teaching, and may 
serve to guide some teacherless student in making use 
of objects in working out his own lessons.* 

The student who thus masters every principle as he 
goes on will make slow progress, perhaps, at first, but in 
doing uhis he is laying a foundation for much more rapid 
as well as much more satisfactory learning after a little 
while. As soon as he clearly sees what ligures mean, 



* Of c>.arse nobody will imagine for a moment that 1 put tliis plan forward 
OB in any seu«e new. It is only part of the great system of object-teaching 
known t every intelligent instructor, but used far lesa generally than it 
Bhould be. 



22 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

and learns to associate them with their meanings, 
mathematics loses its abstract character, its study be- 
comes an agreeable one, and the relations of numbers 
to each other become clear, unmistakable facts to his 
mind, which he has no difficulty in comprehending. 
And this relation of numbers to each other is all there 
is of arithmetic. 

Let me add one suggestion which I have found of va- 
lue in a great many cases. There is nothing so good as 
concrete study, and the student of arithmetic should 
make an exercise out of every combination of numbers he 
can get outside of his arithmetic. When he reads in a 
newspaper, for instance, that there were two hundred 
and fifty-six persons on board a wrecked vessel, of whom 
twenty-eight were drowned and eight died of exposure, 
he has an excellent exercise in the calculation of the 
various percentages involved. And so with a hundred 
other things. Excellent problems may be made out of 
the dimensions of every room in the house, out of every 
planted field, out of everything in fact around the stu- 
dent, and these may be made to involve precisely the 
principles he most wishes to study, whether they be 
those of arithmetic or those of the higher mathematics. 

They have the advantage too of being real, practical 
problems, involving tangible facts, and there is no bet- 
ter way of making one's self a perfect master of arith- 
metic than by the persistent use of these every-day ob- 
ject-lessons with which we are all surrounded. Let the 
student practice making them for himself, and he will 
find no lack of material for his purpose. 

Under another title in this volume I shall endeavor 
to show how a somewhat similar process may be made 
to contribute very largely to the student's progress in 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 23 

things other than arithmetic, and to enlarge his culture 
even more rapidly than the regular study of books can 
do. 

We come now to 

THE STUDY OP ENGLISH. 

As our own language is the vehicle through which 
we communicate our thoughts to others and receive 
their ideas in return, of course every American needs 
to know English thoroughly. Looking at the matter 
from the lowest plane it is easy enough to see that a 
mastery of English has a decided pecuniary value to its 
possessor. In large commercial houses the accom- 
plished English scholar who sits at the correspondent's 
desk usually receives double the salary paid to the much 
harder-worked bookkeeper, in spite of the fact that the 
latter brings to the business the capital of a technical 
Aill. And there are scores of other ways in which a 
thorough knowledge of one's mother tongue may be 
made to pay, while its absence is often fatal to success. 
An ill-spelled letter, an ungrammatical remark — these 
and similar things have cost many a failure. 

The money value of English study is by no means 
small, but aside from this, there can be no question of 
the fact that the study of English, properly followed, 
brings with it nearly, if not quite, as much of intellect- 
ual culture as the study of any other language, and 
with these facts in view, I think there can be 
no doubt that next to elementary arithmetic there 
is nothing more important in a common school 
education than the study of English. And yet it 
seems singularly neglected. Not one in fifty, even 
of classically educated men, can write a single 



24 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

page in perfectly accurate English. This may appear 
to be an extravagant statement, but I make it after a 
careful examination of results, and am convinced that 
it by no means goes beyond the fact. A great many 
cannot even write in tolerably good English, while the 
number of people who can spell correctly is so small 
that I have known more than one person to argue that 
the ability to spell is " a gift," — that it comes, as high 
musical attainments do, only to those who have esj)ecial 
intellectual endowments in that direction. The absurd- 
ity of such a theory is too manifest to need demonstra- 
tion. A memory which receives and retains the ten 
thousand occurrences of every day life is certainly 
equal to the task of remembering the order of letters 
in our constantly used words, particularly as the sound 
actively aids the memory in this matter, as it does not 
in ordinary affairs. 

THE FAILURE OF THE GRAMMARS. 

A thorough and accurate knowledge of English is of 
very great value to all. But while I think it im- 
possible to attach too much importance to the study of 
English, I do not regard our grammars, as they are 
written, as of much use in any case, while to a great 
many people they are simply stumbling-blocks. Mr. 
Bichard Grant White has shown, and most thinking 
people had already discovered, that our whole system 
of conjugating verbs after the manner of the Latin 
language is an absurdity ; that " I might have been 
loved " is no more a part of the verb " to love " than is 
any other phrase in which " love " or " loved " occurs. 
Our language is almost wholly without verbal inflections, 
and the translation of a Latin verb in its different 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 25 

moods and tenses into English phrases of the same 
meaninqj, certainly does not give moods and tenses in 
English. Indeed, the grammarians have been singu- 
larly inconsistent in this. If the English phrase by 
which we express the thing that the Bomans meant 
when they used the first person, singular number, sub- 
junctive mood, future perfect tense of the verb " Amo " is 
properly called, in English, a like inflection of the verb 
" to love," then the same rule should apply to nouns, ad- 
jectives, etc., and we should have the word " man " de- 
chned, in English, as follows : 



Nominative, 


A man. 


Genitive, 


Of a man. 


Dative, 


To or for a man. 


Accusative, 


A man. 


Vocative, 


man. 


Ablative, 


With, from, in, or by a man. 



But we have nothing of the sort in any of the gi-am- 
mars. Our grammarians have translated the Latin 
verbs into English phrases and named these after the 
inflections of which they have the force, while they 
wholly omit to do the same thing with the nouns. 

This is but one of many absurdities, which this is 
not the place to point out, and I have only given a 
single illustration for the sake of suggesting rather than 
explaining to the reader, my reasons for saying that 
while I regard the study of EngHsh grammar as of the 
utmost importance, I think the study of English gram- 
mars almost wholly useless in aU cases, and actually 
hurtful in many. 

Let it be understood, then, that what the student 
wants is to study Enghsh grammar whether he studies 



26 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

English grammars or not. I would have him learn the 
btructure, the philosophy, the origin, and the use of hia 
mother tongue, and I am convinced that there are 
better ways of doing this than the one ordinarily 
adopted, in the chewing of dry husks at the bidding of 
a grammarian who defines an adverb to be " a word 
which qualifies or limits a verb, adjective, or other 
adverb," and then proceeds to tell the pupil that the 
word '* yes " is an adverb, in spite of the fact that no 
sentence can possibly be formed in which this word 
will in any way qualify or limit anything whatever. 
The ordinary system of studying English is slow, irk- 
some, and productive of poor results in the great ma- 
jority of cases. That there is a much better way I am 
fully convinced, and it is one of the purposes of this 
chapter to explain to the student what this better way 
is. 

The English grammars very correctly define Enghsh 
grammar to be " the art of speaking and writing the 
English language correctly," though they proceed to 
treat of many things in no way embraced in this defi- 
nition, while they omit many of the essentials to such 
an art. 

HOW TO STUDY GKAMMAE. 

Discarding their system and accepting their defini- 
tion, we find that in order to speak and write the Eng« 
lish language correctly, it is necessary to know 

Id. How to pronounce the words ; 

2w6?. How to spell the words ; 

'drd. What the words mean ; 

Wi. How to frame them into correct sentencea 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 27 



PKONUNCIATION. 

We learn the correct pronunciation of most words as 
we learn the words themselves, by hearing others use 
them. Analogy gives us the sound of many others, 
and for the rest, errors are corrected and doubts easily 
solved by reference to the dictionaries. 

SPELLING. 

It cannot be denied that the orthography of our lan- 
guage is a difficult one. It follows few analogies, it has 
many redundancies, it is often awkward, and in a gene- 
ral way, there are no principles governing it. Some 
attempts have been made to frame rules for spelling, 
but these for the most part are of small value, covering 
but a meagre list of words, and admitting of many ex- 
ceptions. There are but two of them that I have 
found of practical value to anybody. One of these is 
that monosyllables and words accented on the last syl- 
lable, ending in a single consonant, preceded by a sin- 
gle vowel, double the final consonant before an addi- 
tion beginning with a vowel. It is a long rule, covering 
a very short hst of words. It may enable a student to 
avoid spelling such words as " beginning," " plotting," 
" shipping," etc., with a single " n," " t," or " p," but 
beyond this it is of no service whatever. The other 
rule to which I refer is that the diphthong " ei " usu- 
ally follows " c," while its companion, " ie," is generally 
used after other consonants ; for example, in the words 
" receive," " deceive," " perceive," etc., the " e " takes 
precedence, while the " i " comes first in such words as 
"field," "shield," "believe," "relieve,"" chief," "thief," 
etc. This rule serves a good purpose, inasmuch as it 



28 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

meets a very common difficulty, but there are a good 
many exceptions to it, and they greatly lessen its value. 

As these are the best of the rules given in any of the 
giammars, and the best that can be given, it will be 
Been at once that English speUing must be learned to a 
great extent arbitrarily, but a little industry and atten- 
tion will enable any student to master it. 

To a very great extent we absoy^b a knowledge of spell- 
ing in our daily reading. The original process of learning 
to read is itself a learning to spell, and as we read words 
correctly spelled in our newspapers and books, we natur- 
ally fall into the way of spelhng most of them aright. 
Every person who reads must learn to spell at least 
half the words in our commonly used vocabulary. This 
far we are all able to spell, but there is no reason why 
any student should habitually sx^ell any considerable 
number of words badly ; no reason, at any rate, except 
that the system by. which spelling is commonly taught 
is an essentially bad one. Everybody knows what that 
system is, and everybody knows too how imperfectly it 
accomplishes its purpose. It is like all other parrot- 
teaching, in that its results are rapidly lost as soon as 
the attention is given to something else. 

Experience and observation have combined to convince 
me that no person can be taught to spell, but that any 
person may learn to spell. In other words, I am convinc- 
ed that no teacher of spelling is either necessary or useful 
to persons who can read and write. If the student would 
learn to spell words, let him use words. Let him write 
every day, and in writing, whenever he shall come to a 
word which he does not certainly know how to spell, 
let him look for it in his dictionary, examining its deri- 
vation as well as its spelling. Then let him look also at 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 29 

all the words derived from it, and when this is done ha 
will never hesitate again as to the orthography of any 
of them. 

To do this as an exercise is easy enough of course, 
but when one is writing for other purposes he is apt 
to find it more convenient to ask some one else how 
to spell the word, or even to guess at it, than to go 
to his dictionary ; and just here is the common point of 
failure. A spelling so arbitrary as ours is can only be 
mastered by industry, and the student who has not in- 
dustry enough to examine the dictionary for himself in 
every case, has no right to hope for anything like com- 
plete success. I cannot too strongly impress the stu- 
dent with the necessity of holding himself strictly to 
this rule. It may consume valuable time at first, but 
the occasions for going to the dictionary will rapidly di- 
minish in frequency under a faithful following of the 
plan suggested, and the results will fully compensate 
him for all the trouble taken. 

Inattention is a fruitful source of ill spelling. I 
mean by this not merely that in moments of inatten- 
tion we are aj^t to spell incorrectly words that we know 
how to spell, but also that by inattention the student 
loses many opportunities of learning the orthography 
of words for the first time. I can best explain this by 
a few examples of the simplest kind. I have seen the 
word " preparation " spelled with an " e " in the second 
syllable, simply because the writer failed to remember 
that "preparation" is a derivation of "prepare." Hard- 
ly a day passes in which I do not see " separate " or 
some of its derivatives similarly misspelled by people 
who know Latin reasonably well, and know that the 
Latin word from which our " separate " comes is a com- 



30 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELF. 

pound one, made up of " se " and " parare." A very 
little measure of attention would show them the abso- 
lute necessity there is for an " a " in the second sylla- 
ble, and yet I find an " e " there in eleven out of six- 
teen instances now before me, all of them taken from 
the manuscrij^t of educated men, who could give the 
derivation of the word without a moment's hesitation. 
These are but two cases cited here by way of illustra- 
tion. Scores of others might easily be added, but my 
purpose now is simply to suggest the way in which a 
little care and attention may be made to serve the stu- 
dent in learning to spell accurately. 

LEABNING THE MEANINGS OF WORDS. 

In some sort we absorb a knowledge of the mean- 
ings of words, but- the popular use of words is by no 
means always a very accurate one, and the nicer dis- 
tinctions which constitute at once the beauty and the 
power of language are often wholly lost in our common 
speech. A good knowledge of these is of the first im- 
portance to the student who aspires to become any- 
thing like a good English scholar. For the accomplish- 
ment of this, methods very similar to those I have in- 
dicated for use in learning to spell will be found indis- 
pensable. Whenever the student hears, sees or uses a 
word of which he does not know the full and precise 
meaning, with its synonyms and their departures from 
absolute synonymy, he should at once make the word a 
study, examining his dictionary carefully for all the in- 
formation there given on the subject, and comparing 
the word with its synonyms for the sake of leai-ning 
the peculiarities of each, and the purpose each serves iu 
our speech. The amount and variety of information to 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 31 

be acquired in this way is very much greater than most 
students will imagine, and there is no better or more 
rapid way of learning English than precisely this. But 
to do this worthily will require a good deal of industry, 
and it may even cause some inconvenience at times. In* 
dolence and self-indulgence are greatly in the way in this 
as in all other attempts to learn anything thoroughly. 

In thus studying the spelling and the meaning of 
words, the student will find it an excellent plan to carry 
a memorandum-book in which to write down, when a 
dictionary is not at hand, words of which he wishes to 
make studies. 

In the study of meanings, too, a Httle attention to 
the forms, kinships, derivations, etc., of the words will 
be found of quite as great assistance as a similar pro- 
cess is in the matter of spelling. This is especially the 
case with people who know anything of Latin, Greek, 
French or Anglo-Saxon, because to such persons a 
large number of our English words bear their meaning 
on their faces, if only the student takes care to look for 
it. But even people who know nothing of any lan- 
guage except their own will find in many words traces 
of their origin, from which all their nicer shades of 
meaning are at once apparent. Aside from the time 
saved by this process when it is applicable, it has the 
gi-eater merit of supplying a much more thorough and 
accurate knowledge of the words and their uses that 
any study of mere definitions can give. 

It would seem at the first glance that this habit of 
analytical attention to the formation of words, would 
so commend itself to every one as to need no mention 
here, but I am convinced that the fact is otherwise. I 
have known many good Latin scholars to habitually 



32 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

use the word " transpire" as the equivalent of "happen," 
and certainly no one familiar with Latin could possibly 
fall into such an error, except with eyes shut to the 
transparent formation of the word so misused. And 
the same thing happens every day with hundreds of 
other words, that express their meaning in the very 
syllables and letters of which they are composed, and 
yet are constantly misused by people who ought to 
know better, and do know better, if they would only 
trouble themselves to think of the matter. 

THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 

Words, taken separately, are of no value. They are 
but the bricks out of which the building, language, is 
constructed, and we no sooner begin to learn their 
meanings than we begin also to learn how to put them 
together into intelligible sentences. We learn this in a 
rude way, just as we learn approximate meanings, by 
absorption from the people around us. As we grow 
older our reading greatly increases our information on 
this subject, at the same time correcting many of the 
errors adopted from oral speech. But to learn the ge- 
nius of the language, to master its idiom, to compre- 
hend its principles, and to acquire so thorough a mas- 
tery over it as to make it a soft clay in our hands which 
vve can mould as we will to our uses, are ends that can 
be accomplished only by long and earnest work. 

Let us look a little into the processes. In the gram- 
mars we have the dry husks of syntax, simple enough, 
and even tolerably interesting to people who have al- 
ready learned all that these are intended to teach, but 
quite useless and almost wholly unintelligible to the 
student seeking to learn these things. The grammars 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIEf?. 33 

tell of moods and tenses, with names that are anything 
but indicative to the boys and girls who are expected to 
use them. Then follow " rules," varying in number ac- 
cording to the fancy of the grammarian — rules like 
those in the arithmetics, that are simply statements of 
facts, that teach no principles, and are of no manner of 
use, except in the solution of the syntactical problems 
arrayed under them as exercises. Doubtless some peo- 
ple have learned English from these grammars, but in 
the main their use is certainly of questionable advan- 
tage. Dull pupils cannot comprehend them ; bright 
ones get on better, in the study of English, without them. 

There is no better way of learning the structure of 
any complicated thing than by taking it to pieces and 
putting it together again, and there is no better way of 
learning the English language, certainly. Indeed, the 
writers of the ordinary grammars recognize this fact, 
and their whole effort is to instruct and practice the 
student in doing just this. But I think with Mr. 
White, and a good many other lovers of idiomatic En- 
glish, that our grammarians have been misled by the 
old scholastic influences into an attempt to make our 
speech conform to the Latin, and so have built upon it 
an unphilosophical system of inflections, and encum- 
bered it with a set of rules that have no root in the na- 
ture of the language itself. The limitations of this 
manual would not admit of the discussion of this sub- 
ject here, even if the view I take had not been already 
ably maintained by the author to whose work I have 
referred. 

But while I do not think any ordinary grammar 
necessary or very useful to the student who has 
no master, there are text-books on Enghsh gram- 



34 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

mar wliicli will aid him greatly in his study of the Ian* 
guage. Such a book as Greene's Analysis, for in- 
stance, in which parts of speech, and conjugations and 
rules of syntax, and all the cumbrous technicalities of 
grammars are wholly done away with, while the author 
leads the student step by step from the simplest to the 
most complex of sentences, analyzing them and show- 
ing the student the nature and office of every part, will 
be found invaluable. There are several text-books of 
the sort, in which the English language is treated phi- 
losophically and rationally, with but few technicalities ; 
but the one named is one of the best for the self-teach- 
ing student, in that it is one of the simplest. 

But just here it is well to remind the reader that the 
book, even if it shall be thoroughly mastered, will not 
teach him English. As he studies its pages he should 
form the habit of going outside of them and questioning 
the sentences he reads elsewhere for confirmation and il- 
lustration of the text. He should make exercises every 
day of the books or papers within his reach, and of the 
remarks made in his presence. This will serve not only 
to fasten in his mind the principles laid down in the 
text, but also to show him the departures from them 
that are common in conversation, and he will soon learn 
to know which of these are errors to be avoided at all 
times, and which are simply conversational idioms, ad- 
missible as such, but not authorized for other purposes. 

HIGHER ENGLISH. 

From the Analysis, and from this daily application of 
its teachings, the student will learn the laws governing 
the language. 

Having faithfuUy followed the system of study indi* 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 35 

cated, he will now have learned how to pronounce the 
words ; how to spell the words ; what the words mean • 
and how to put them together into sentences. In 
other words he will know how to speak and write the 
English language correctly. He will have learned the 
grammar of our tongue. 

But many people can speak and write the language 
correctly who cannot speak or write it well. Many 
people who never use an incorrect sentence, never frame 
a graceful one. Correct English may be, and often is 
very stiff English, and the student who has gone this 
far is by no means master of the language as yet. He 
has still to learn how to write and speak in graceful 
sentences, and how to handle the tongue deftly, as an 
infinitely flexible instrument, completely under hi8 
control. 

Such a mastery over English is acquired, of course, 
by very few people, comparatively, but the end is one so 
worthy that the student should spare no effort to ac- 
complish it as fully as possible, and every approach to 
it is a step in the direction of ripe scholarsliip of the 
very best sort. 

The means that have been employed to this end are 
various, and almost every student will be able to add to 
my suggestions many valuable exercises of his own. 
Indeed these self-devised lessons are often the veiy 
best ones possible for the student, inasmuch as they 
commonly spring from a known and felt necessity of 
liis own, and therefore supply the wants of his peculiar 
temperament and circumstances much more directly 
than any exercise suggested by others can possibly do. 
I shall confine myself therefore to the recommendation 
of plans which I have known to work well, lu-ging the 



36 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

student to vary them whenever he finds that a change 
will better adapt them to his own particular case. 

An approved text-book on English composition will 
supply a good deal of needed information, while it will 
furnish also the rules governing good English speech, 
and guide the student in the correction of inelegances 
of phrase. (Dr. John S. Hart's very admirable series of 
text-books are probably the best, especially for self- 
instructed students.) No text-book on the subject aims 
to do more than this, and indeed none can do more. 
The rest must be learned from extensive reading, or by 
means of exercises, and these, as I have said, may be 
varied almost at will. The one most commonly em- 
ployed in the schools is composition-writing, and tliis, 
with a competent teacher as critic, is ordinarily found 
to be extremely valuable. 

Even without criticism the practice of telling things 
in writing will bring with it a certain degree of fluency 
and ease in the use of language, and eveiy student of 
English should write something every day. If the 
thiug that he writes shall prove not to be a composition, 
in the school-room sense oi the term, it will be so much 
the better, simply because in real life people talk very 
little about abstract matters, while it is only the thor- 
oughly earnest and thoroughly practical teacher who 
succeeds in making his composition- writers treat of any- 
thing else. 

Let the student who would master English, then, 
write something every day. If he simply tells a homely 
anecdote, or relates the incidents of the day, or gives 
an account of something he has seen, to an imaginary 
circle of readers, or if he writes down what he has 
thought upon any subject, the result will probably be 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 87 

Worth nothing in a literary way, but its writer will have 
had an excellent lesson in English. 

There is another admirable exercise, closely akin to 
this. It was technically known in the High School 
where it originated as " narration ;" certain pupils were 
named, each day, as the narrators for the following day, 
and each was required to take the rostrum and tell 
something to the school. They were allowed to tell 
anything they chose, but always in their own words, 
and the rapidity with which the pupils improved in 
their manner of^ saying what they had to say, not only 
on the rostrum but equally in other places, was yery 
marked. The student without a school may quietly 
exercise himself in a similar way in the company of his 
fellows without letting anybody into his secret. An 
audience is an audience, whether its members are aware 
of the fact or not. 

Another excellent plan is to take sentences from 
books, or elsewhere, and practice expressing their ideas 
in a variety of other forms. It is best to take single 
sentences at first, and to see in how many ways you 
can express the same ideas, using the same words or 
others as convenience may dictate. Then take two or 
three sentences on a single subject and repeat the pro- 
cess, practicing also the expression of the ideas con- 
tained in your two or three sentences, in a single, com- 
pound, or complex sentence. Reversing the process, 
take a long compound or complex sentence, and break 
it up into a number of simple ones, fully expressing the 
same idea. 

This much may be done mentally, when the materials 
for writing are not at hand, when the student is at 
work, or when he is walking, or riding, or doing any- 



38 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

tiling else that does not require his constant attention, 
in pursuance of the habit of thought-education sug- 
gested elsewhere in this volume. 

When you shall have acquired a good degree of 
facility in this exercise, a somewhat more elaborate 
application of the princlpie will be found of very great 
advantage. Kead a very short article of any kind, and 
then turning away from it write down its substance in 
your own way, or still better, in three or four dif- 
ferent ways, taking care to preserve the precise mean- 
ing of the original, and to omit nothing. At first 
this will be done awkwardly, but after a little practice 
you will find it easy to say the same thing in half a 
dozen different ways, and when you can do this the 
flexibility of the language in your hands will be 
greatly increased. When you shall find this to be the 
case, follow the plan with longer articles, taking care 
all the time not to make use of awkward, confused, 
or very complex sentences. Remember that of two 
ways of expressing precisely the same thing, the sim- 
pler one is always the better. 

Just here, let me give a word of caution. If the 
student has read any of the books upon English com- 
position, he is in danger of falling into troublesome 
errors by too strict an adherence to the rules they lay 
down. Let him bear in mind, constantly, that thesa 
rules are only general ones, and are not applicable in 
every case. They are framed, for the most part, for the 
correction of those errors into which very young writers 
commonly fall, and while they are necessary for this 
purpose, even their authors do not intend that they 
should have a wider application than this. 

Let me illustrate this. One of these rules is t(» the 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 39 

effect that tautological expressions are bad, and in a gen- 
eral way this is very true ; but there are cases in which 
the frequent repetition of the same word or the same 
idea greatly adds to the force of writing, and a strict ap- 
plication of the rule in such cases as these, is of course 
not intended. Again, there is a very simple rule, that 
where several substantives are coupled toge ther, either 
as the subject or the object of the verb, the conjunction 
"and" or "or" must be used only between the last two. 
For example, " Men, women, children, horses and dogs, 
joined in the chase," is better than " Men and women 
and children" etc., and ordinarily the rule holds good in 
this way. There are times, however, when it is better 
to write all the conjunctions, and our very best writers 
frequently do so. 

To decide when it is better to adhere to these and 
similar rules, and when it is better to depart from them, 
is the office of taste^ and good taste in literary matters 
comes only from careful culture. I can give the stu- 
dent no clue to the problem — no formula by which he 
can solve it, but I have given this caution in order 
that the reader who begins with a proper respect for 
rule maj^ also cultivate, from the first, a reasonable in- 
dependence of rule, in order that the guides given 
him in his text-books may not become his prison- 
keepers, as they are very apt to do with students who 
have no other masters. What I would press upon him 
is briefly this, that the rules given him in the text- 
books on composition and rhetoric are in the main 
correct, but that not one of them is applicable always 
and everywhere. In avoiding the errors they are de- 
signed to correct, beware of falling into errors of an 
opposite kind. Let your taste and your judgment be 



40 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

educated by these rules, but never allow either to be 
arbitrarily controlled by them. Apply the rules when 
they are applicable, but hold yourself free to depart 
from their strict letter whenever it carries a meaning 
contrary to their spirit. They are meant to be guide- 
boardFA, and not impassable barriers to the student. 
He should catch their spirib, taking care to ascertain 
just what they are intended to teach, and just what 
errorp, they are designed to prevent, keeping constantly 
in m\nd the fact that except in the matter of gi*am- 
matical accuracy, there can be no rule of universal ap- 
plication on the subject of English composition. ^I 
have found no greater stumbling-block in the way of 
self-teaching students than the habit of blindly follow- 
ing rules that were never meant to be so followed. 

There is another exercise in English composition 
which helps to give the student freedom in the use of 
language, while its practice teaches him something else 
at the same time. It is to read brief editorial com- 
ments on current events, and to write something quite 
different upon the same subjects and from the same 
facts. This is what is known in newspaper offices as 
paragraphing, and every editor knows how very few 
people do it thoroughly well. While it forms an excel- 
lent exercise in the use of English, it serves at the same 
time to sharpen the wits and to cultivate a habit of in- 
dependent thinking which is absolutely essential to all 
profitable reading. The man who reads books as gos- 
pels, accepting their statements of fact and their con- 
clusions as necessarily true, becomes the mere creature 
of his books, and his ideas are but reflections, and often 
faint ones at that, of other people's thoughts. He has 
Uis opinions at second-hand, and they are worth little 



COMMON SCHOOL STUDIES. 4:1 

to himself and still less to anybody else. His mind is a 
lumber-room. He has succeeded in getting some learn- 
ing, perhaps, but it has brought with it no culture. 
Against a habit with tendencies of this kind we cannot 
take too many precautions, and the exercise just sug- 
gested furnishes a most admirable training in habits of 
reading the very opposite of the unfortunately common 
one to which I refer. 

But as a means of culture in English, the constant 
reading of good authors is more effective than anything 
else> and upon that, chiefly, the student must depend 
for excellence in this as in a good many other depart- 
ments of learning and culture. 

A rather remarkable case, illustrating the effective- 
ness of reading as a teacher of Enghsh, was that of 
George Northrup, the trapper. His education was ex- 
tremely limited ; his opportunities for intercourse with 
men of culture were very few, and his habits of hfe as 
a trapper were certainly not of a kind to supply educa- 
tional defects. But he was a constant reader of De 
Quincey, Irving, and Bancroft, and when he wrote news- 
paper letters from the Indian wars, the purity and 
grace of his hterary style were the wonder of every- 
body who know the history of the man. 



CHAPTER in. 

COLLEGIATE STUDIES, 

WHAT TO STUDY. 

In planning this volume I have had the one purpose 
of making it as generally useful as possible, constantly 
in view. To this end I make my chapters and other 
subdivisions with reference rather to the convenience of 
students than to any strictly philosophical system of 
classification. I have called the branches already treat- 
ed, Common School Studies, not because they are fully 
taught in the average common school, but because they 
ought to be. In like manner I include under the title 
" Collegiate Studies " all that we learn of languages, 
the higher mathematics, and experimental science, al- 
though the rudiments of all these are commonly 
learned before matriculation. This manual is intended 
chiefly for students who have not the advantages of re- 
gular instruction, and very many of these are forced by 
circumstances to content themselves with the bare ne- 
cessaries of education. For such the course already 
marked out is especially designed. It embraces noth- 
ing that the commonest education should not include, 
while it excludes everything else. Having gone thu^ 
far in the work of self-culture, the student will now bt-- 



COLLEGIATE STUDIES. 43 

called upon to decide how much more of regular study 
he will undertake, and the o*ld questions, " what shall I 
study?" and "how shall I study it ?" will come up again 
for decision. 

In this case, as in the former one, the decision of the 
question, " What shall I study ?" will depend largely 
upon the student's age, circumstances and purposes. 
Again he is reminded that in all knowledge there is 
profit, but that all knowledge is not equally profitable. 
Again he must remember that there is no limit to pro- 
fitable education ; that the ideal education is a com- 
plete storing of the mind with information, and a com- 
plete development of all the faculties ; that the true 
purpose of education is the preparation of the man for 
his most perfect work. 

Study is the means by which education is secured, 
and study has a twofold purpose. Whether we study 
books, men or things, we are constantly accomplishing 
a double end and receiving a double benefit- ; we are 
acquiring information and we are developing and dis- 
ciphning our faculties. In deciding between two 
courses of study, which to select, the student must 
take into the account the value of the information 
each will give and the value of the culture each will 
bring. And these values, as I have before said, 
vary according to the circumstances and purxDOses of 
the student. Some kinds of information and some 
kinds of culture have a special value in certain busi- 
nesses, which other culture and other information, 
equally good in themselves, have not. In other words, 
the man should be moulded to his work in life as per- 
fectly as possible. The more complete his education 
can be made the better, but if it must be a partial one, 



44 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

then it should embrace the parts that best supply his 
wants. I can only indicate' the nature of each branch 
of study, leaving the student to decide which will best 
serve his purpose, reminding him, however, that he 
needs them all, and advising him to make the list of his 
selections as large as his circumstances will allow. 

THE SCIENTISTS AND THE CLASSICISTS. 

The student who has pushed his education to this 
point, cannot have failed to discover that there are two 
opposing schools of educational theorists, differing 
widely in opinion as to the comparative merits of the two 
curriculi — the classical and the scientific as they are 
called. The more conservative school holds that the 
study of languages brings with it an intellectual culture 
which nothing else can supply. Their opponents argue 
that there is nothing, or at any rate very httle of 
practical use, learned from Latin and Greek, and that 
scientific studies furnish as much mental discipline as 
the classics do, while their teachings are eminently 
piactical, after the modern acceptation of the term. 
The classicists accuse the scientists of measuring the 
value of culture by a sordid utihtarian standard, and 
the scientists retort by crying " cant," and insisting that 
the old system of " Latin and Logic " is a musty rehc 
of a less practical age than this. 

Between these two it is neither the province nor the 
purpose of this volume to decide. Probably both are 
partly right and both partly wrong. The utilitarian 
character of a scientific education is certaimy a point 
in its favor, but there seems to be quite as much oi 
cant employed in its advocacy as in that of the older 
system. On the other hand, I am not of those who 



COLUJGIATE STUDIES. 45 

think lightly of the classics. The culture obtained in 
study of the languages, whether dead or alive, is of a 
kind which nothing else can claim to give, while the 
practical use of such study, even if we confine it to the 
dead tongues, and measure its value by the strictest 
of utilitarian rules, is by no means small. 

Aside from other considerations, there is no bet- 
ter or surer way of learning English thoroughly than 
by learning other languages. The kinship of all the 
Indo-European tongues is so close that we cannot 
add an acquaintance with any one of them without 
greatly increasing and improving our knowledge of 
those we may have learned already ; and in addition 
to this there can be no question of the fact that the 
act of translating from any one tongue into any 
other, is the very best possible exercise for develop- 
ing that fluency, and freedom, and flexibility in the use 
of our own language which we all admit are of so 
much value. 

In the exercises given in a former chapter, for the 
student's use, I have purposely omitted this one of 
translation, because it seemed out of place there, inas- 
much as a large majority of those for whose benefit 
that chapter was written know no language but their 
own, and many of them, perhaps, will study no other. 
Some of those exercises, however, are one in principle 
with translation, and the processes are, in fact, transla- 
tions from one kind of English into another. These 
have been made so for the purpose of supplying to the 
student of English, as far as possible, the advantages 
which only the student of other languages can fully en- 
joy, and the man who would master English, if he can- 
not study other languages thoroughly, cannot do a bet- 



46 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

ter thing than to learn something of other tongues, 
even if it be bufc the " Httle Latin and less Greek " at- 
tributed to Shakespeare. The very fact that to learn 
anything of these he must translate their idiom into 
our own, is quite enough to justify the recommenda- 
tion. 

I need not dwell upon the advantages of scientific 
studies. The student will hear these extolled on all 
hands, and with excellent reason. The sciences deal 
with the practical concerns of to-day. Their teachings 
are all of the largest usefulness. Their study equips 
the student, as nothing else can, for an active, iiseful, 
earnest, and profitable life, and anything like a mastery 
even of any one scientific specialty brings with it a good 
degTee of culture, though the culture is of a somewhat 
narrow sort in most instances. Indeed, the chief 
danger incident to scientific pursuits lies in the growing 
tendency of scientists to follow specialties, to the ex- 
clusion of everything else. Humboldt took " all know- 
ledge for his province," but in our day no man can hope 
to be great in the whole even of any one science. Your 
botanist, who wishes to be something more than an 
amateur, confines himself chiefly to some one class of 
flora. One astronomer studies asteroids, and another 
makes comets his specialty, until even the fixed stars 
become, in his view, aff'airs of minor importance ; 
while the entomologist thinks meanly of any glass that 
has a greater range than that of his microscope. 

There is so much in science — so much in each separate 
science — that no one man can grasp it all with a master 
hand, and as a consequence the tendency is more and 
more strongly toward specialties. All this, of coui'se, is 
for the good of science, but it must greatly narrow the 



COLLEGIATE STUDIES. 47 

men. It is a departure, of the most marked character, 
from the ideal education — the education which enlarges 
and develops all the faculties into their fullest and 
most healthful activity, giving each its full share of 
culture, and subordinating each to the perfectly bal- 
anced whole. It is well for the world that we have 
specialists, but the pushing of one's whole being into a 
specialty, while it may ensure good results in that one 
direction, is not, by any means, the highest or best form 
of education. 

The advantages of mathematical study are manifest. 
Aside from the practical daily uses of mathematics in 
every workshop and every office, the study of pure or 
applied mathematics supplies a kind of intellectual 
training which can be secured in no other way. The 
accuracy of conception and statement required, the 
mastery of principles, the solution of problems — all 
these develop habits of mind of the most healthful 
and useful kind. There is hardly any business in which 
the processes of mathematics are not in constant use, 
and there can be no position in life in which the mental 
discipline that comes of mathematical study is value- 
less. 

THE QUESTION TO BE DECIDED. 

The student who has completed his common school 
studies will in almost every case feel called upon to de- 
cide what he will select from the seemingly endless list 
presented by the advocates of the classical and the scien- 
tific courses. On the one hand there are a score of 
separate sciences, almost any one of which is too vast 
for his complete mastery, and on the other a Hst of 



48 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELF. 

languages still larger. From which shall he select, and 
how much of either may he safely undertake ? 

Again, he must decide for himself, having in mind 
his own special circumstances, the time at his command, 
his wants in the way of information, and his wants in 
the way of culture. A careful reading of this chapter 
will inform him as to the nature of the several branches, 
and their respective degrees of special adaptation to his 
purposes, but he should never for a moment lose sight 
of the fact that the more general and catholic his edu- 
cation can be made, the nearer it will approach to the 
perfect standard of complete and well balanced cul- 
ture. If his time is limited, and his business or other 
circumstances create a special want, let him supply that 
first, by all means. Otherwise let him beware of the 
narrowness of specialties. Except in such individual 
cases as the one named, the best course is one embrac- 
ing something of the languages, something of the ex- 
perimental sciences, and something of mathematics — 
and the more of each the better.* 



* I speak here only of text-book study. The subject of general Uteratiura 
Win be treated under another head. 



CHAPTER rV. 

THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

Haying determined to study one or more foreign 
tongues, the student will almost certainly find himself 
puzzled to decide what ones they shall be. I cannot 
tell him, nor can any one else lay down a general rule 
in such cases. Perhaps I can help the reader, however, 
to solve the difficulty for himself. 

THE COMPARATIVE VALUES OF LANGUAGES. 

The Greek and Latin commonly take precedence of 
modern languages, in systematic curriculi, for the rea- 
son that they are much more difficult in some regards, 
and are therefore supposed to furnish a larger share of 
mental discipline than any two spoken European lan- 
guages. Again, our hterature, and that of all Europe, 
is so closely aUied to the classics of Greece and Rome 
as to give special value to the study of those tongues. 
On the other hand, a knowledge of almost any modern 
speech is of much greater practical usefulness than a 
knowledge of Greek or Latin, and the current of opin- 
ion seems to be setting strongly in favor of modern 
languages, in this utilitarian age. 

Of the modern languages, French is the most gener- 
ally useful, perhaps, to people who may have occasion io 



50 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

travel, inasmuch as it is not only the language of diplo- 
macy, but also the one speech in which the traveller 
can make himself understood almost anywhere in Eu- 
rope. The French literature, too, is one of the finest in 
the world. 

The German, while it is spoken less commonly out of 
Germany, is the native tongue of a very large part of 
Eiu'ope. It is so closely akin to the Saxon part of our 
own language as to have a peculiar value to English- 
speaking people, And, moreover, there are so many 
Germans in our own country that a knowledge of their 
language has a practical value to Americans which no 
other has. 

These are the two modern languages most commonly 
studied by Americans, for the reason that while their 
respective literatures are of the very highest order, they 
have a greater practical value to us than other Euro- 
pean tongues. In point of kinship with English the 
Germanic family of languages (German, Dutch, Scan- 
dinavian, etc.) are nearer on one side, and the Latin 
group (French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, etc.) on 
the other. Most of our shorter, commoner conversation- 
al words come to us from the Germanic side, while from 
the Latin we have the words of nice distinction and 
more ornate speech. From the one we get the strength 
and from the other the polish of our tongue. The re- 
quirements of the student in one or the other of these 
regards may influence his choice to some extent, where 
other considerations are equal. 

THE COMPARATIVE DIFFICULTY OF LEARNING THEM. 

Another point is the comparative ease or difficulty 
with which different languages may be learned. To a 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 51 

student who knows nothing but Enghsh, the difference 
in this respect, between the leading languages of the 
two families, is hardly appreciable. The Dutch closely 
resembles English in some respects, and the Frisic dia- 
lect is so like our own language that travellers have 
sometimes mistaken it for corrupt English. This is not 
the case however with the German. We have a good 
many words in common with that language, but the 
resemblance is not much stronger than that between 
English and the Latin tongues, so that the student who 
knows no language but English will find one about aa 
difficult as the other. With one who knows Latin, 
however, even partially, the case is very different. To 
such a person the French and the Italian are much 
easier than the German, while the Spanish and Portu- 
guese are easier even than these. Indeed, the Spanish 
is so similar to the Latin that no Latin scholar need 
trouble himself very much to learn to read it. 

If the student knows Latin, then, or any one of the 
Latin tongues, he will fmd far less difficulty in learning 
any other language of that family than in mastering a 
Germanic speech. If he knows any two of these lan- 
guages, his study of the others will be still easier. 

I suggest all these things merely that the student 
may have before him all the facts bearing upon the 
question of what languages he will undertake, and may 
make his decision wisely. 

HOW TO STUDY LANGUAGES. 

Languages are studied in a great variety of ways, 
many of them convenient and many exceedingly awk- 
ward. The old system, still in use in too many schools, 
is to begin with a grammar, study it from beginning to 



52 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUBSELF. 

end, and then, with the aid of a lexicon, to translate 
one book after another fi'om the language in hand into 
English. The Germans, who have done more than any 
other people to develop rational systems of teaching, 
were the originators of the first improvements on this 
old, slow and unsatisfactory mode of studying lan- 
guages, and to them we really owe all that we have of 
improved methods in the matter. Their first marked 
advance was the introduction of what is usually called 
prose composition — which consists of a series of grad- 
uated exercises in translation — from the foreign into 
the mother tongue, and conversely from the native into 
the foreign language. The advantages of this plan of 
graduated double translations over the old system are 
so manifest that the principle involved has found a 
place in almost every one of the later methods, most of 
which have grown out of it more or less directly. 

THE GROUP SYSTEM. 

Dr. Beard, in his work on self-culture, predicts that 
the discoveries made by the comparative philologists 
will revolutionize our system of learning languages. 
He thinks the best way to become familiar with differ- 
ent tongues is to study them collectively, and suggests 
that the student first take up Sanscrit, as the head of 
the Indo-European family, and learn at least those of 
its roots which have been preserved in the tongues that 
have come after it, and then proceed to learn the com- 
parative grammar of the several languages composing 
one of the groups of which the great Indo-European 
family is composed. 

However admirable this plan may be for men who in- 
tend to make comparative philologists of themselves, it 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 53 

will hardly become, as Dr Beard thinks, the common 
mode of studying languages, and it certainly has little 
practical value to the class of students for whom I 
write. I refer to it here only because it contains the 
germ of a suggestion which may be of advantage to the 
student, and that is that if he intends to study more 
than one language, he will get on faster by studying 
them in groups, not necessarily beginning with Latin 
when he means to study that and the tongues which 
have come from it, but studying all the Latin lan- 
guages he intends to master, one after the other, defer- 
ring those of any other group until after he shall have 
completed his studies in those of the group first under- 
taken. In this way one language will become a key to 
another, and the student's progress will be greatly faci- 
litated. 

Ordinarily, however, the number of tongues studied 
is not sufficient to make this of any practical -use, and 
it will better serve the purposes of this volume to tell 
the student just how to learn any one language. Sev- 
eral improved plans for doing this have been devised of 
late years, all of them based upon the German system 
already referred to, though in them all that system is 
greatly elaborated and improved. 

M. marcel's system. 

The best of these, in my judgment, is that given in a 
little book now out of print,* of which I shall endeavor 
to give the spirit here. In the book itself the reasons 
for every process and every exercise are given in full, a 
thing manifestly impossible here, even if it were desira- 



• The Study of Languages brought back to its True Principles; or the Art of 
Tliinking in a Foreign Language, by C. Marcel, Knt. Leg. Hon., etc., etc. 



54 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

ble. The student needs only to know what the system 
is, and that it has proved one of the very best in actual 
practice. With this general acknowledgment let me 
give the system of M. Marcel, with one or two unim- 
portant modifications, as briefly as possible. 

In learning a language there are four distinct things 
to be learned. These are — 

1. To read the written tongue , 

2. To understand the spoken tongue ; 

3. To speak the language ; 

4. To write the language. 

And these should be learned in the order in which 
they are here set down, so that one may serve as a key 
to another. Not that one of these should be, or can be 
wholly mastered before the next is begun, but this is 
the order in which they should be taken up. In 
learning a dead language, the first and last of these 
are all that it is necessary to know, because the pronun- 
ciation of the dead languages is uncertain at best, and 
as nobody speaks them we have no occasion to learn a 
questionable pronunciation, which when learned is of 
no use whatever. 

Beyond the quantitive rules of pronunciation there- 
fore there is little to be learned in this respect in the 
study of dead languages, and the same thing is true 
also of modern languages, when the student studies 
them solely with a view to the reading of their litera- 
ture, and has no purpose to speak or to understand 
them when spoken. 

HOW TO LEARN TO READ A LANGUAGE. 

The ordinary way of learning to read a language is 
by the constant use of the grammar and the dictionary. 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 55 

In the method now under consideration both of these 
are dispensed with almost wholly. We not only do not 
find it necessary to learn the rules of English syntax 
before learning to read English, but practically we learn 
those rules chiefly from our reading, precisely as the 
grammarians who have written them down for us 
learned them in the first instance. A language is not 
made from its syntax, but the syntax is deduced from 
the language — ^it is merely a statement of the facts of 
usage, and is in no way the author of that usage. Ac- 
cordingly, to learn the rules of syntax which come 
from the language, before learning the language, is 
wholly unnatural and irrational. The child learns how 
to put words together before he learns anything of the 
syntactical rules involved. He learns to use his mother 
tongue from the example of others, and not from any 
rules of syntax, and it is precisely in this way that the 
student should proceed in learning any other language. 
He should learn first the usage of the people who 
write and speak it, and from this he will learn the 
rules practically without the aid of any grammar. 

And the same is true of verbal meanings. Diction- 
aries only give the translation of words — their equiva- 
lents in English— not their meaning in all its fullness, 
which can only be learned from their use by the peo- 
ple to whom they are natives. 

The student cannot learn the grammar of a lan- 
guage or the meaning of its words at all adequately 
except from the language itself, and to attempt to 
learn these as a step preparatory to the study of the 
language is simply an attempt to subvert the order of 
nature and to accomplish an impossibility. 

There are certain things, however, that may be 



56 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

learned from the grammars and dictionaries as a pre- 
paration for reading, and the learning of these consti- 
tutes the first step in the study of the language. Let 
me explain what these are, and briefly state the reasons 
for learning them and only them. There are two 
classes of words of which every language is almost wholly 
composed. The first of these consists of verbs, adjec- 
tives and substantives, out of which, chiefly, all sen- 
tences are formed. The other class consists of articles, 
pronouns, prepositions, conjunctions and adverbs, 
which are used to connect the others or to modify their 
meaning. 

The import of words of the first class varies largely 
in practice, so that it can only be adequately learned 
fi'om their use, while words of the other class have or- 
dinarily but a single signification, which may be readily 
learned ; and moreover, as a rule they have few if any 
variations of form in composition. 

These words of the second class should be so far 
learned in advance that the student will know them by 
sight when he shall meet them in reading. There are 
less than four hundred of them in common use in each 
European language, and their limited number, together 
with their usually uninflected character, makes it easy 
to learn their forms and meanings so that when they 
are met they will give no trouble. 

With words of the first class, however, no attempt 
should be made to do anything of the kind, but the 
conjugations and declensions should be mastered, so 
that the various forms of inflected words may be readi- 
ly recognized. This much may be learned from any 
grammar, and this constitutes the whole of the first 
step in learning to read a language. 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 57 

The pupil should next begin to translate the foreign 
tongue into his own language, without the use of dic- 
tionary or grammar. When he knows the inflections 
of the verbs, etc., and can recognize most of the words 
of the second class, he will have no difficulty in trans- 
lating any plain text into Enghsh, with the help of a 
strict translation, and for this purpose it is best at first 
to use text-books in which the English and the foreign 
text are printed in parallel columns, or on directly op- 
posite pages. 

Books of this kind may be had for nearly all the mo- 
dern languages usually studied in this country ; but 
when they cannot be secured, the next best thing is a 
translation in a separate volume. Interlinear transla- 
tions are very perplexing, and are bad for several other 
reasons. 

The books used should be as interestmg as possible 
in their matter, and stories or other works in narrative 
style are much the best. Poetry should be avoided en- 
tirely at this stage of the learner's progress, because it 
is difficult, and because its syntactical structure is not 
in accordance with the common usage of the tongue. 

The student now proceeds to translate the foreign 
language into Enghsh, referring to his printed transla- 
tion for assistance, for confirmation in cases of doubt, 
and for the correction of errors. In the text he has 
the language in actual use, written by an author to 
whom it is a mother tongue, and consequently, showing 
all the usages and idioms of the language much more 
fully and much more practically than can be done in 
any ordinary text-book. 

What he wants is to learn French, or German, or 
Spanish just as Frenchmen, Germans or Spaniards 



58 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

really use it, and this is best learned from a study of it 
as they habitually employ it. He wants no grammatical 
disquisition on the subject, and no dictionary transla- 
tions of words. 

He needs to read as much as possible of the Ian 
guage he is studying, and by thus reading it he finds 
out practically what are the usages of the language 
and what the real force and meaning of each word is, 
and this is just what the grammars and the dictionaries 
theoretically teach, but what they can never teach 
thoroughly and practically. 

But just here it is necessary to remind the student 
that translating a book from a foreign language into 
English is not reading the foreign language by any 
means. There is much that is untranslatable in every 
language. The full force of an author's meaning can 
never be felt except by those who read his work in the 
original — that is to say by those who have so far mas- 
tered the language in which he writes, that his words 
and sentences directly convey his meaning, without 
their mental translation into English. 

We never know a language, we can never really read 
a language, until we can think in it, without mentally 
substituting the native for the foreign idiom, or vice 
versa, 

I mention this here, because it should be the con- 
stant aim of the student, as he translates, to acquire 
the power of understanding the text without translat- 
ing it. This power comes only with effort, and the ef- 
fort should be a constant one, beginning almost as soon 
as the student begins to translate. 

His first success in this direction will be in the way 
of isolated, idiomatic expressions, which cannot be ex- 



THE STTDY OF LANGUAGES. 59 

ac (ly translated. Of these he will soon catch the spirit 
and meaning, at first partially and imperfectly, after 
awhile in all their fullness. Let him seize every such 
opportunity, and when once an expression carries its 
meaning to his mind directly, let him always after 
avoid the translation of that or similar expressions. 

His stock of such will grow much more rapidly than 
he thinks, and each new acquisition will aid him in se- 
curing others. 

Here is another advantage which this system has 
over the old one. Grammars and dictionaries teach 
men to translate only ; by this system we learn to read 
iri the original. 

No grammar can tell the student what an idiomatic 
expression means. It can only tell him what is the 
English idiom most nearly corresponding with it. 

Children learn their own language by precisely this 
method. No parent lectures his child upon the rela- 
tions of substantive and verb, before teaching him how 
to put them together in a sentence. "We learn our 
mother tongue in sentences, and not in words. Even 
before the child can pronounce at all, he learns to un- 
derstand what his mother means when she says things 
to him. 

His knowledge of whole sentences precedes his 
knowledge of words. He can talk and read for many 
years before he knows anything of syntax, and if he 
heard nothing but pure, correct English from the first 
he would use nothing else. 

Now it is precisely this system which we should fol- 
low in learning any foreign language. We should learn 
not the definitions of isolated words, and the rules of 
B^Titax regarding them, but the meaning of the senten- 



60 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSEIiF. 

ces as they are framed by the people whose language 
we are studying, and thus learn the language itself. 
After we shall have done this thoroughly, it will be 
time enough to take up the grammar, if we shall then 
care to do it. 

Let the student begin then by translating some in- 
teresting work, substituting actual reading for transla- 
tion wherever it is possible, and becoming familiar with 
the usages of the language as rapidly as he can. He 
will find a second reading of all the passages of very 
great advantage in this direction, or still better, if he 
can get for his first reading-book, something with 
which he is already familar in English — the New Testa- 
ment, for instance — he will much more rapidly gain a 
clear insight into the untranslatable force of the idiom, 
and acquire much sooner than he otherwise would, the 
power to think in the language he is learning. 

At this stage of the learner's progress, if the lan- 
guage he is studying be a living one, he should make 
no attempt to pronounce it. The power of under- 
standing the spoken tongue, as will be seen later, must 
come before that of pronouncing it, and any attempts 
at pronunciation made before this power of under- 
standing is acquired, will only cultivate and fix bad ha- 
bits upon the organs of speech employed, and debauch 
the ear so as to interfere seriously with the ultimate 
acquisition of a good pronunciation. 

At present the student should avoid pronunciation 
altogether, if possible, letting his eye alone know the 
words, without attaching to them any idea of sound 
whatever. 

Many people find it impossible to do this, but they 
laay at least avoid the actual pronouncing of the words 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 61 

BO that their bad pronunciation may be mental only, 
and not fix itself upon the organs of speech. 

M. Marcel thinks it would be better for the student 
who must attach some idea of sound to the printed 
words, to let that idea be precisely what it would be 
were the same combinations of letters to occur in Eng- 
lish, so that when he shall come to learn the pronunci- 
ation correctly, he may not be embarrassed by the ne- 
cessity of correcting approximate but erroneous ideas 
previously conceived. 

The student should continue his translating as rapid- 
ly as practicable. What he wants is to become familiar 
with the words and phrases of the language in actual 
use, and the more he reads the oftener will each of 
these present itself. 

Eepetition is the mother of memory, in the matter of 
language. The student learns and remembers the ex- 
act force of an expression only from its repeated ap- 
pearance in the text, and the more pages he shall read, 
the more fi^equently each word and phrase will occur, 
and the more he will learn of the language. 

At first, of course, he will find a few words whose 
meaning he cannot discern even by the light of his En- 
glish translation. For these, and for these only he 
should consult his dictionary, remembering that it is 
better always to learn the meaning of a word from its 
use, when that is possible, than from the verbal transla-^ 
tion of a dictionary. For a while it will be necessary 
to go over every passage two or three times, in order 
that its full meaning may become clear, and its phrases 
be fixed in the memory. After a while this will cease 
to be necessary. 

As the student goes on he will rapidly learn the 



62 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELP. 

meanings and the uses of words and of idiomatic ex- 
pressions. As this knowledge comes to him he must 
gradually become independent of his English transla- 
tion, and learn to rely upon his own increasing know- 
ledge of the language. Beginning with the two texts 
in j)arallel columns, his second or third book should bo 
wholly in the original, and his translation in a separate 
volume, so that he may only refer to it as occasion shall 
require. 

When he can dispense with the translation except for 
very difficult sentences, it will be well to use books with 
marginal or foot-notes in which the very difficult pas- 
sages only are rendered, and to substitute for his 
French-English or German-English dictionary, as the 
case may be, one written wholly in the language he is 
learning, in which definitions in that language take the 
place of translations into English. 

But it cannot be too strongly impressed upon the stu- 
dent that we learn the true, exact and perfect meanings 
of words only by induction after seeing them used in a 
variety of ways. We may commit definitions to mem- 
ory, but we get at the true meaning of words only fi'om 
their actual use. This is true to a great extent of our 
own language, and still more largely of a foreign one. 
When we first meet a word in a sentence we gain an 
imperfect idea of its meaning, or we learn one side of 
its meaning. When it occurs in other relations we 
grasp it more perfectly, and after we have seen it used 
a number of times we learn it in all its fullness, and 
henceforth know all its purpose and power. 

This inductive process is the basis of the system now 
under consideration, and to cultivate the habit of in- 
duction the learner must work out for himself the 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 63 

meaning of each word in his text, as far as possible 
without having recourse to his dictionary. 

When the student finds translating without the use 
of a printed translation thoroughly easy, which is to 
say, when he shall have learned the use and meaning of 
most of the words and phrases of the language in hand 
so that he can readily render the text into its English 
equivalent, he should set himself earnestly to the work 
of learning to read in that language without translat- 
ing it at all, as before explained. 

If he has taken care to practice this with single 
phrases as he has gone on, the purpose will now be 
much more easily accomplished than it otherwise 
would have been. He should begin it with the book 
last translated, because his familarity with the text will 
greatly facilitate his work. At first he will find it a 
Httle difficult, perhaps, to grasp the meaning from the 
text without the mental act of translation, but a very 
httle practice will enable him to do this, and by con- 
stantly reading in this way, he will gradually learn to 
think in the language, so that he can mentaUy or in 
writing frame his thoughts into the forms of the tongue 
he is learning without first conceiving them in Eng- 
hsh. 

When he can do this readily, he will be able to ap- 
preciate the literature of that language, and to read it 
with a full measure of profit, which he never can do so 
long as he mentaUy translates it into his own native 
idiom. 

THE TIME NECESSAKY. 

With a vast number of students this is all that is 
wanted of foreign languages. They wish to read and 



04 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELi'. 

profit by the literature of other nations, and have nc 
especial need or desire to know the spoken tongue. 
They stop when their purpose is accomplished, and if 
this be the limit of their purpose, they will naturally 
want to know how long it will take them to reach it. 

To such a question no answer of universal applica- 
tion can be given. The time will vary considerably by 
reason of differences of mental habit and differing de- 
grees of application and of daily leisure. But a rea- 
sonably apt pupil, who can give two or three hours a 
day to his work, and who works earnestly, should be 
able to master this much of any modern European 
language within six months. 

M. Marcel thinks that length of time should suffice 
for this and considerably more, but his estimate is pro- 
bably based upon his own experience when he gave his 
whole time and attention to the matter in hand, which 
few students of course can do. 

The dead languages are learned somewhat less rapid- 
ly than the spoken ones, but they may be learned, as 
this much of modern languages may, without any as- 
sistance from teachers. Here, as everywhere else, a 
competent teacher will greatly assist the student, of 
course, but this much of language the student, with or 
without a teacher, must really learn for himself, and 
there is no reason why the want of an instructor should 
deter any earnest student from undertaking to so far 
master a language as to read it, to write it, and to 
think in it. 

LEAKNING TO UNDEESTAND THE SPOKEN TONGUE. 

Every young child hears the conversations around it, 
and after a while it begins to understand what is said. 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 65 

At first every spoken sentence falls on its ear in a con- 
fused jumble of sound, which not only means nothing, 
but is so confused that the child cannot even separate 
the words from each other, or determine just what 
sounds are really uttered. Little by little, however, as 
the same sounds are repeated again and again in its 
presence, it begins to distinguish them from each other 
with a constantly increasing accuracy, until it learns at 
last what certain sets of these sounds mean. After this 
comes its first effort to pronounce the words it has 
heard. 

The order of the process is understanding first, 
speaking afterwards, and it is precisely in this order 
that we should put • them in learning any foreign 
tongue. Our organs of speech are exactly like those 
of Frenchmen, or Germans, or Spaniards, and there is 
no word in their languages which we may not learn to 
pronounce quite as well as they. But the difference in 
the pronunciation of a native and a foreigner in any 
language, lies chiefly in the niceties of sound, and it 
arises almost wholly from the fact that the foreign ear 
has not been educated into the power of distinguishing 
these niceties of sound in a language other than its 
own. 

At first every foreign language is a confused jumble 
to our ears, just as aU language is to the child, and we 
must learn to hear it understanding^, just as the child 
learns to hear his mother tongue. When French is 
spoken in our presence, if we know no French, it is 
impossible for us to separate the words from each other, 
and more than this, we cannot accurately repeat after 
the speakers the shortest of phrases, giving the sounds 
as they give them. 



66 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

To our ears our imitation is exact, but to the Frencn- 
man it is painfully wide of the mark. I once knew a 
French gentleman who said that he lived in this country 
and spoke English for ten years before he was able to 
discover the slightest difference in sound between the 
words " tree " and " three," even when they were utter- 
ed with the utmost care for the purpose of making the 
distinction clear to him. In other words, it took ten 
years of culture to enable his ear to discover a difference 
of sound so marked as this. 

This much by way of illustration on a point which 
cannot be too strongly insisted upon, though it is one 
which both teachers and pupils often overlook, — to wit 
that the education of the ear should come before that 
of the tongue, — that we must learn to catch and under- 
stand the sounds of the language before we can learn to 
utter them, and that to attempt the latter before attend- 
ing to the former can only result in bad vocal habits 
difficult to overcome. 

It is for these reasons that we divide this part of the 
student's work into two separate tasks, — learning to un- 
derstand the spoken tongue, and learning to speak it. 

In ordinary practice the distinction is made loosely 
when it is made at all, and a great many teachers begin 
teaching the pronunciation at the outset, even before the 
student has begun to translate. 

To some extent the four parts into which the task of 
learning a language is divided, overlap each other, of 
course, and they neither can nor should be wholly sepa- 
rated, but it is in every way best that the student shall 
take them up in the order here given, letting them 
run into each other where they do so naturally, but 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 67 

treating them, in the main, as separate parts of the work 
he has undertaken. 

We have ah^eady seen that before we can learn to 
speak a language properly we must so educate our ear 
as to distinguish its sounds nicely, whether they be ut- 
tered separately in syllables, or combined into words 
and sentences. We must learn to hear the language 
before we can learn to speak it, and this can be learned 
only through the ear. 

Books do not address themselves to the ear, and 
therefore books can never teach us either to hear or to 
speak. For this, and for this only in the study of 
language, a teacher is absolutely necessary. The stu- 
dent cannot learn it by himself, and no book can assist 
him. He must have a teacher, but any person native to 
the tongue, who can read it, will do for a teacher, if he 
be instructed a little in the art of teaching what he 
knows, and hence I give here some suggestions as to 
how the ear and the tongue can best be trained, so that 
in the absence of a competent teacher the student may 
be able to make use of any person who speaks the lan- 
guage as a mother tongue, himself instructing his teach- 
er how to proceed. A very small expenditure for the 
services of some such person will thus cover the whole 
cost of learning the language. 

It matters little, in this case, whether the teacher un-* 
derstands English or not. All that is required of hioj 
is a correct pronunciation of his own language. 

The teacher should begin with a book which the stu- 
dent has recently read, one with which he is thoroughly 
familiar. At first he should pronounce slowly and dis- 
tinctly the words of the book, while the student listens, 
with the text before him. A phrase at a time carefully 



68 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF 

uttered, and as nearly as possible with the conversation- 
al accent, will soon enable the student to follow without 
looking at the text, if it be a familiar one, and as soon 
s>s this can be done at all the use of the eye should be 
dispensed with, so that the unassisted ear may be 
brought into full activity. 

When any sound is not accurately caught by the stu- 
dent, or when it does not carry its full meaning with it, 
he should stop his teacher and have the words spoken 
again and again until their sound and their sense are 
perfectly clear. When exercises of this sort become 
easy, the teacher must read whole sentences at once 
without dividing them into their clauses, and as soon 
as the student can follow him in them he should begin 
to increase the rapidity of his reading, taking care that 
the increase each day is so slight that the student does 
not lose either the sound or the sense of what is 
read. 

When the student's proficiency is such that he can 
readily comprehend a familiar text, read rapidly, one 
less familiar should be substituted, and a very few 
weeks of diligent application will so train the learner's 
ear that he will have no difficulty in understanding any 
book read aloud in the language in hand. 

It will now be time for him to begin his efforts at 
pronunciation. To make earlier attempts is not only 
useless, but positively injurious. The uneducated ear 
imperfectly catches the foreign accent, and the tongue 
as imperfectly utters it. A bad habit of ear is con- 
firmed and a bad habit of tongue is created. But when 
the ear clearly catches the sounds of the language, so 
that the sound is unmistakable in itself, and carries its 
meaning with it, the tongue will be easily trained to the 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 69 

power of reproducing it, and the well-schooled ear will 
readily detect and rapidly cure the imperfections of the 
tongue's performances. 

This postponement of the first efforts at pronuncia- 
tion until after the ear has learned the language, will 
not only greatly facilitate the learner's progress, but 
will also make his pronunciation, in the end, much more 
perfect than it otherwise could be. 

As soon as the learner is so far advanced that he can 
readily understand the reading of his teacher, he 
should begin the habit of mental!}' pronouncing after 
him, as an additional preparation for the task of learn- 
ing to speak the language, and when he can follow ra- 
pidly read prose, he should substitute poetry in its 
stead. As verse is necessarily somewhat involved in 
stjde, it cannot be translated quite as rapidly as an or- 
dinary reader reads it, and hence it is particularly valu- 
able at this stage of the student's progress, because he 
must understand it in the original, without translation, 
if he understands it at all. 

The teacher should also talk with his pupil only in 
the language he is learning, not only for the sake of 
adding so much to the exercises, but also because in 
his conversation he will pronounce with the natural ac- 
cent, a thing which can never be perfectly done in 
reading. 

The student who has learned lo read the language 
easily before beginning this part of his task, should bo 
able to understand the spoken tongue after a month or 
six weeks of this kind of practice, and he will then be 
prepared to enter upon the next stage of his journey, 
namely — 



70 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELP. 



LEABNING TO Sl-EAK THE LANGUAGE. 

In learning to pronounce a foreign tongue the onQ 
thing to be guarded against is error. It is far easier 
and infinitely better to avoid error than to correct it. 
A word once mispronounced is more difficult to man- 
age afterwards than one that has not been attempted at 
all. 

For this reason it is better not to begin this part of 
the task at all until the ear is pretty well skilled in its 
function, after which the pronunciation is readily and 
correctly mastered. But even when this precaution has 
been taken, the student should attempt no word until 
he is sure that he knows its exact sound, to which end 
the teacher should begin by pronouncing a very short 
phrase two or three times, slowly and distinctly, the 
pupil listening until he is sure that he has mastered it 
with his ear. "When this has been done he should take 
it up in his turn, saying it over until it falls from his 
tongue without conscious effort. 

If he pronounces wrong, the teacher must stop him 
and repeat the process from the first. 

After a little time the length of the phrases may be 
increased, gradually, until the pupil can repeat whole 
sentences, slowly at first, — more rapidly afterwards. As 
the teacher reads, the pupil should attend with his ear 
only, not looking at the printed page, but taking the 
words from their articulate rather than their written 
form. That this may be the more perfectly done, the 
student should wholly abstain from reading aloud until 
his pronunciation is fixed. He should learn the spo- 
ken language wholly through his ear. He may retain 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 71 

it afterwards by reading aloud, but it cannot be learn- 
ed satisfactorily in that way. 

There are some languages, however, in which the or- 
thography and pronunciation bear a constant and uni- 
form relation to each other — languages in which every 
letter, and every combination of letters, has its fixed and 
certain sound. In these, reading aloud as an auxiliary 
exercise is well enough. In these, too, a very brief 
tutelage will give the student all the sounds of the lan- 
guage, and enable him by reading to perfect his pronun- 
ciation of all the words, without further assistance from 
a master. 

When the student shall have learned to pronounce 
most of the words in common use, he has only to prac- 
tice his art, both by reading and by conversation with 
his teacher, to make himself as nearly perfect in speak- 
ing the language as it is practically possible for English- 
speaking people to become. Should he be surrounded 
by people to whom the language is a mother tongue, he 
will of course talk with them only in their native 
idiom ; but where this is not the case, some care is ne- 
cessary to prevent the gradual loss of the power to 
speak in the acquired idiom. 

Beading aloud without hearers is not a pleasing task, 
and hearers sufficiently proficient to follow the reader 
are not always to be found. To supply this want it is 
well to commit passages from books to memory, and to 
repeat them frequently aloud. In other words, the art 
of pronouncing a foreign language when once acquired 
can only be retained by practicing it, and anything 
which fui'nishes occasion for practice is useful to thia 
end. 

I Lave thus given the spirit of this much of M. Mar- 



72 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

eel's system, condensing it as far as it is practical to 
do so, and altering its details wherever I have thought 
a change desirable to adapt it more perfectly to the uses 
of that class of students for whom chiefly these 
pages are written. In making these alterations oi 
detail, however, I have taken care not to depart from 
the principle on which his system is based. 

I omit wholly the remainder of his teachings, —all 
that he says about learning the conversational idiom so 
that the pupil's thoughts will flow in it freely, and 
all of the chapters on the Art of Writing, on Mental 
Culture, and on Koutine. Parts of these have no prac- 
tical value to students without a master, as they refer 
chiefly to the art of teaching rather than to that of 
learning. Other parts are wholly foreign to the pur- 
poses of this volume. 

As to the art of writing a foreign language, I deem it 
unnecessary to say anything, inasmuch as it follows, al- 
most without effort, the art of reading. Any one who 
can read French, for instance, sufficiently well to appre- 
ciate the text without translating it, can hardly fail to 
write it well, with very little practice. 

THE KOBERTSONIAN SYSTEM. 

Another very admirable system of learning foreign 
languages is that of Professor Robertson. In its gen- 
eral design it closely resembles the ]3lan already sketch- 
ed, and in many respects it is but a practical application 
of the principles elaborated in M. Marcel's work, 
though there are some important points of difference 
between the two plans. 

The Robertsonian text-books are prepared for use in 
Bchools, and have therefore many things in them, of 



THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. 73 

which the student without a master cannot make use, 
but omitting these, the books themselves may be used 
with advantage by any class of learners. 

The text consists of a simple story, so ingeniously 
constructed that its telling involves all the idioms of 
the language to be learned, in succession, repeating 
each constantly, so that even in his earliest lessons the 
student becomes familiar with all the peculiarities of 
structure and phraseology, which under the old systems 
of teaching presented the chief difficulties in his path. 

A portion of the text is taken up in each lesson, and 
printed with a slavish, verbal, Enghsh translation inter- 
lined. This is followed by a translation into good En- 
glish. Then follow a series of questions and answers, 
and sentences for oral translation, made up exclusively 
of words and phrases from the text, which furnish 
from the first admirable exercises in double translation, 
and also rapidly train the pupil in the art of thinking 
in the language he is learning, and reading it without 
translating. 

This much of each lesson is designed for those who 
wish to learn the language rapidly and practically. 
Appended to each of these lessons is a grammatical dis- 
sertation for the benefit of those who desire to study 
the tongue critically as they go on. 

The system dispenses, as Marcel's does, with the use 
of a dictionary, and the text-books are provided with 
abundant instruction as to the manner of their use, so 
that the student who shall adopt them will need no 
guidance of this sort here. 

On the whole I prefer the system already sketched 
to that of Professor Kobertson, but the two are so 
neai'ly the same in principle that the student cannot err 



74: HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

greatly in selecting either, and whether he shall folloMf 
the one or the other, his progress will be far more ra- 
pid than it could possibly be on the old grammar and 
dictionary plan. 

Before quitting this subject let me give a word of 
warning to the student — let me remind him that in all 
education, beyond what is necessary to supply the im- 
mediate business wants of the man, culture is of more 
value than learning ; and with this fact before him the 
student will readily understand why I say that one 
lang-uage thoroughly mastered is better than a dozen 
half learned. 

If he has taken up French, let him follow that alone, 
to the exclusion of all other tongues, until he shall have 
so far mastered its principles as to read it freely and 
easily. Not until he shall have done this will it be wise 
^or hini to "begin the study of another language. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS, 

THE NATURE AND VALUE OF MATHEMATICAL STUDY. 

We have already had something to say in regard to 
the value of mathematical study, in the practical useful- 
ness of its teachings and in the culture it brings with 
it. The practical uses of mathematical knowledge are 
apparent on every hand, and the culture incident to 
close, exact study scarcely needs mention. 

But there are circumstances which affect the relative 
value of the mathematics as compared with other studies, 
and it is necessary that the student who must content 
himself with a partial education, shall have these in 
mind in determining how much of the mathematics he 
will undertake. So far as the bread and butter utility 
of this or any other kind of study goes, — so far as the 
question is one of the market value of the learning to be 
gained, the student will have no difficulty in deciding for 
himself, as in this respect his decision is dependent al- 
most wholly upon the nature of his proposed business 
in life. If he is making an engineer or a mechanician 
of himself, he needs to know all he can learn of ma- 
thematical principle and mathematical fact. If he 



76 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

would be a lawyer, or a merchant, or a physician, his 
practical needs in this matter do not go beyond a good 
knowledge of arithmetic. 

In the matter of culture, however, the case is very 
different. If the student's business or circumstances 
are likely to require a habit of close, exact reasoning, 
careful analysis, and minute investigation, he needs ex- 
actly the culture which a study of the mathematics will 
give him. If his habits of mind are loose and careless, 
— if he knows himself prone to jump at conclusions, 
and to accept opinions upon insufficient evidence, if he 
lacks the power or the habit of discriminating nicely 
between the probable and the proved, he needs the cul- 
ture incident to mathematical study, more than disci- 
pline of any other sort, and should therefore give the 
mathematics as large a place as possible in the course 
he is marking out for himself. 

If, on the other hand, his intellectual wants are of a 
wholly different character, as is often the case, and he 
has but limited time at his disposal, he may spend that 
time in something more profitable to him, at least than 
mathematics. 

Again, in some cases, there may be occasion for some 
drilling in mathematical habits, without the necessity 
which exists in others for a complete course of the 
kind. 

The question in every case must be decided by the 
circumstances surrounding that case, and these circum- 
stances the student only can know fully. He should 
ascertain precisely what his wants are, in the matter oi 
culture as well as in that of learning, and govern him- 
eelf accordingly. 



THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 77 



THE PROCESSES. 

The ideal text-book in mathematics is one which ex- 
plains every principle in the order of its use, and after 
explaining it, gives the student exercises which enable 
him to grasp it and to fasten it in his mind. The actual 
text-book falls considerably short of this, as every 
teacher knows, and every student finds out. 

But in the very nature of things, mathematical text- 
books are better adapted to their purpose than text- 
books of any other kind, and there is nothing to pre- 
vent any student of ordinary mathematical capacity 
from proceeding alone from elementary Algebra to the 
Calculus, with no assistance other than that of his text- 
books. Indeed, all there is known of mathematics was 
wrought out originally without even this assistance. 

The exactitude of mathematical processes is such thai 
the text-books must of necessity furnish nearly all the 
aid any earnest student can wish, and hence there is 
comparatively little for us to say here as to the manner 
of pursuing studies of this class. A word or two, how- 
ever, may be of service alike to students in and out oi 
school. 

THE OKDER OF STUDIES. 

In regard to the order in which the several branches 
of the mathematics are to be studied, there is very little 
variation. 

We must begin with algebra, of necessity, as it is the 
basis of all the rest, and while many teachers put 
their pupils into geometry, as soon as they are fairly 
grounded in the elements of algebra, it seems to me 
that the plan is in every way a bad one, giving birth 



78 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

to much trouble throughout the remainder of the 
course, and ending in imperfect scholarship at last. 
Such a course is especially bad when the student has 
no master, and I have rarely known a case in which 
the attempt, on the part of a self-taught student, has 
not resulted either in a complete breaking down and 
an abandonment of the mathematics altogether, or in a 
systenj of empirical study requiring all the work and 
giving none of the culture incident to a complete mas- 
tery of the science. 

The better plan is to take up first a book on elemen- 
tary algebra, and to master it absolutely. This should 
be followed by Davies' Bourdon, and when the student 
shall have completed that, his road through all the re- 
mainder of the mathematics will be both an open and 
an easy one. 

"With Geometry, Plane and Spherical Trigonometry, 
Analytical Geometry, Navigation and Surveying, which 
are the branches commonly studied before the Differen- 
tial and Integral Calculus is taken up, the order in which 
I have x^laced them here is as good as any other. 

None of them will j)resent any formidable difficulty 
to the student who has begun by making his knowledge 
of algebra complete, and where this has been done, the 
studies enumerated above should not, in the aggregate, 
demand more time or more work than was necessary to 
the mastery of algebra. 

In other words, algebra, if learned thoroughly, is in 
time and labor about half the ordinary collegiate course 
of pure mathematics. * 

* Surveying and Navigation are, properly, applied and not pure mathemat* 
\cs, but for the sake of convenience I follow here the conanaon classification. 



THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 79 



THE WAT TO STUDY ALGEBRA. 

When jou begin the study of algebra, remember that 
it is /ad from beginning to end ; that it has been dis- 
(^overed, and not invented ; that every operation is the 
appHcation of one or more principles, and that a know- 
ledge of the operations is worth nearly nothing when 
the principles governing them are not fully understood. 
What has been said on this point with regard to the study 
of arithmetic, is, if possible, even more strongly appli- 
cable to that of algebra. 

Beginning with a clear comprehension of these 
points, the student should, as far as possible, follow the 
original process by which the principles of algebra were 
evolved from each other. He should begin with a full 
understanding that the science of abstract numbers is a 
complete structure, made of many parts, each of which 
was learned in the beginning from those which precede 
it, and as far as possible he should build the structure 
piece by piece for himself. To a great extent this may 
be done without a close following of the book, and 
where this is the case the text-book should be used only 
as a general guide, and as a mentor for the verification 
of work and the correction of error. 

Where it is necessary to follow the book strictly, the 
student should endeavor not only to comprehend each 
principle, but to discover also just how it follows from 
those that have preceded it, and how others are to 
grow out of it. 

Almost every new principle will be found to rest upon 
two or three previously learned, each being a corollary 
not ordinarily from any single principle, but from a 



80 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

combination of several, and this synthetical process, 
while it serves to make the student's progress in mathe- 
matical study much more rapid and greatly more satis- 
factory than it otherwise would be, is in itself the very 
best intellectual exercise incident to this branch of 
study. Without it one may learn mathematics, though 
not quite so thoroughly as with it, but in omitting it he 
loses the greater and better part of the mental disci- 
pline and culture to be derived from mathematical 
studies. 

Moreover this habit serves still another purpose in 
making a study fascinating which is otherwise proverb- 
ially dry and uninteresting to the majority of students. 
Once formed, the habit should be continued through- 
out the course, but I dwell upon it here because algebra 
is the basis of all the other branches of higher mathe- 
matics, furnishing the groundwork of them all, and 
whatever is to be done in this regard must be begun at 
the bottom. 

A WAY OUT OF DIFFICULTIES. 

As a rule a principle should be thoroughly under- 
stood before it is used at all in the working of problems, 
but sometimes this is impossible, and when the student 
shall find it so, it will be well for him to proceed with 
the problems, applying the principle, as yet but imper- 
fectly understood, as a means of grasping it. Some- 
times the working of a problem or two will make a 
matter transparent which before was wholly incompre- 
sible. But in any event, never leave a principle until 
you do understand it. Never go on to others unti/ you 
know what this one is, and the reason for its being 



THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 81 



ANOTHER WAY OUT OF DIFFICULTIES. 

When the explanations given in the book, and the 
working of the problems, fail to make the principle 
stated as clear as it should be to the student's mind, he 
should at once resort to the simplest available form of 
using the principle, and the result will almost always be 
entirely satisfactory. 

Let me illustrate my meaning. I had a pupil once 
who came to a proposition something like this in her 
algebra : 

4:xab — ( 2xa -f 6) = etc. 

" By the terms of this equation," the book went on to 
say, " we have 

4:xab — 2xa — b=" etc. 
The pupil could not understand why, in taking the 
2xa + b out of parenthesis, the plus signs should be 
changed to minus ones. She knew very well that there 
was a rule to that effect in the book, but she was trying 
to learn algebra rather than the rules of algebra, and so 
she sought an explanation. She had already work- 
ed out three or four problems involving this process of 
removing terms from parenthesis, but had been wholly 
unable to grasp the reasons for the change of signs made. 
I substituted figures for the letters and wrote the fol- 
lowing, as different forms of one equation. 

20 — (6 + 4) = 10. 

20 — 6 — 4 = 10. 

20 — 10 = 10. 
Giving her this, I left her to work out the principle in- 
volved for herself, and she soon discovered that the 6 



82 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

and the 4, both positive quantities, were together to be 
subtracted, in obedience to the minus sign, from 20, 
and the reason for the change of signs in removing the 
figures from the parenthesis was apparent at once. 

I strongly commend such a resort to the simplest 
form of arithmetical or algebraic expression which can 
be made to involve the principle, as the very best way 
of grasping what cannot be comprehended at first in 
more abstract or complicated shape. 

The student will have no difficulty in forming for 
himself abundant exercises of this kind, adaj)ted to his 
particular wants as they shall occur. 

RULES. 

In algebra, as in arithmetic, the rules are merely gen- 
eralizations after the fact. As such they are very valu- 
able, but the student is constantly in danger of losing 
sight of their real character, and treating them as rules 
for the solution of problems. 

He should solve his problems on principle, and take 
the rules as succinct statements of what he has done, — 
not as rules for what he has to do. He should remem- 
ber that these rules can have been made only by per- 
sons who were already familiar with the processes of 
which they tell, — that the processes create the rule, 
not the rule the processes. The temptation to err here 
is so great that good teachers often regret the presence 
of any rules at all in the books. 

Not that these concise generalizations are valueless 
by any means. Every teacher knows that they may be 
made of very great use to the student, if only the 
principles involved be thoroughly understood before 
the formulas for their application are learned. 



THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 83 

To the schoolboy the danger is far less than to 
the student without a master, anxious t.o get on. The 
former is made to explain his blackboard operations, 
and thus compelled, to some extent at least, to under- 
stand the principles as he appUes them. The self- 
taught youth, on the other hand, has no check upon 
himself but his own will, and is therefore in constant 
danger of making a misuse of the rules in his book. 

THE OTHER MATHEMATICS. 

We have akeady seen that algebra, thoroughly learn- 
ed, is not only about half the mathematical battle, but 
is in itself a key to everything that follows. Geometry, 
trigonometry, etc., present few difficulties to the 
student who has mastered his algebra before taking 
them up for study. 

The directions given for the study of algebra are, in 
the main, apphcable to the entire course, and there Is 
little else to be said with reference to the succeeding 
parts of the mathematical curriculum. With a hint or 
two we will pass to other things. 

Concrete study is always better than abstract, and 
self-made problems are usually better for practice than 
those given in the books. 

From first to last, therefore, the student should seize 
every possible opportunity to make problems for him- 
self out of his surroundings, and whenever he can put 
any principle to a practical test in actual affairs, he will 
find it a very excellent thing to do. 

When he shall have learned enough of mathematics 
to do so, he will find it a good plan to measure dis- 
tances by triangulation, beginning with distances which 



84 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELF. 

he can verify with his tape line, and passing on to the 
width of rivers or ponds, and similar practical problems. 

Where lie studies surveying, he should at once join 
an engineering party, if possible, doing, in time, all parts 
of the field and chart work, and observing the work oi 
others. When this is impracticable he should at least 
spend some weeks in amateur surveying, using his 
compass or his transit instrument himself, and making 
his own field notes. When he shall have done this, his 
notes will furnish him abundant material for chart 
making, and if he has been at all skillful in the selection 
of his ground he will have at his hand problems in- 
volving nearly all the principles his books have taught 
him. 

Mining and other engineering work, practical mecha- 
nics, etc., are within the reach of almost every student 
of applied mathematics, and the student who would 
perfect himself should neglect no opportunity of study- 
ing them thus practically. 

I must add one other suggestion before quitting the 
subject of mathematics, and that is that the student, 
especially if he have no master, should be himself 
a teacher of others if possible. While yet studying 
algebra he should teach some one else the parts over 
which he has passed, and so on throughout the course. 
Teaching others is an excellent aid to the learning of 
anything, and I once knew a young man who learned 
Latin entirely by teaching it to a younger brother. He 
knew the earlier parts of the grammar, and began, half 
in sport, to teach his pupil. The brother learned 
rapidly and forced the teacher to learn in order that he 
might teach, and the end was success for both.- 

But teaching is especially valuable to the student of 



THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS. 85 

mathematics, inasmuch as it requires constant analysis 
and a constant explanation of the principles already 
mastered, and is, withal, the best possible system of re- 
view, where reviewing is most necessary. If a student 
can secure a pupil less advanced than himself, 
therefore, let him do so by all means, and let him not 
count the time spent in teaching: as lost, or unprofitably 
used. 



CHaPTEE VI. 

PSTYSICAL SCIENCE, 

We have already seen that there are two schools of 
thmkersin the matter of education, the one adv^ocating 
the study of ancient languages as the chief part of 
higher education, while the other estimates such study 
but lightly in comparison with the learning of 
physics. 

Each of these schools is right, doubtless, or nearly 
so, in the estimate it places upon its own favorite 
branch of learning, but each is equally wrong, perhaps, 
in its valuation of the other. The ideal education em- 
braces both the classics and the sciences, and every 
education that can claim to be anything like a worthy 
one must embrace something, at least, of each. 

I have already hinted at the practical importance of 
scientific study, and I have endeavored to suggest some 
of the dangers incident to a too exclusive pursuit of 
learning of this kind. I think the inherent and neces- 
sary tendency of the sciences to narrow specialties is 
full of danger to the student, particularly if his mind 
is not already balanced by a hberal culture in other 
directions. Of course the great work of scientific re- 
search can only be carried forward adequately by scien- 
tific speciahsts, and we must have such men of neces- 
sity. But no one of them advances science much. 



PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 87 

No one of them grasps enough to do much by himself. 
No one of them is a scientist in the full sense of 
the term. Each does his little part, all the more tho- 
roughly because it is so small, and the aggregate result 
is a grand one. But these little " delvers after single 
facts, who must confine their operations to very 
narrow hmits, and hedge themselves in on every side 
lest they divide to wasting, do not furnish us models 
of liberally educated men by any means. * 

The story is told of an old German hnguist who had 
devoted his whole life to the study of the Greek arti- 
cle, to the exclusion of everything else, that when dy- 
ing he cautioned his son against the danger of wasting 
his energies by attempting too much. " This has been 
my own error in life," he said. "I have taken the 
whole article for a study, and it is too great for any one 
man's mastery. I ought to have confined myself to the 
dative case." 

The aggregate of such men's work is a grand one, 
and the work is one which could never be done except 
by men willing to work within these limits. 

The world cannot spare men of this kind. Neither 
can we spare the toilers in mines, but the value of their 
work does not in any way lessen the peril it brings to 
the workers. 

Let me not be misunderstood. The scientific special- 

* Of course I am not now speaking of the eminent scientific men, who, 
while they are unquestionably students of specialties, are also broadly culti- 
vated in things other than science, and in science know vastly more than 
their chosen specialties embrace. Men of this kind are models for all of us 
and as will be seen elsewhere, I hold that to l)e the best practical education 
which makes its possessor complete master of some one thing, and roasouabh 
famihar with other branches of human knowledge. What the student is es- 
especially urged to do is to lay the broadest foundation of general culture 
possible, and then to do what he wishes to do in any particular dii-ection. 



88 HOW TO EDUCATE YOTTRSELF. 

ist does his full share of the world's work and should 
receive his full share of its honors. He does his work 
all the better because he works at but one thing. So 
does the man in a watch factory, who knows nothing 
about the manufacture of a watch except how to cut 
the cogs on a single wheel. Neither he nor any one of 
his hundred fellows could possibly make a watch, but 
together they produce much better watches than any 
one man can possibly make. 

I say nothing against the system of specialties as a 
means of forwarding scientific investigation. I only 
say that the too exclusive study of specialties is not 
the best form of education for the development of well- 
balanced men, and that, in this view of the matter, the 
tendency of all scientific study to run into excess in 
this direction is a danger incident to it. 

I need not detail the advantages of scientific know- 
ledge. They are everywhere evident, and the tendency 
of the age is to exalt physics, even to the depreciation 
of everything else. 

WHAT PHYSICS TO STUDY. 

The student who can push his education beyond the 
narrowest possible limits, will almost certainly wish to 
learn something of physical science. That he should 
do so there can be no doubt. But there are so many 
branches of scientific study that unless he has some 
special inducement to some one of them it wiU puzzle 
him to determine just what and how much to take up. 

There are several points to be considered in deciding 
the question. 

In the first place the sciences are not like the lan- 
guages. All oui- tongues are akin, it is true, but they 



PHYSICAL SCIENCE. 6^ 

are so far separate and individual wholes tliat they 
must ordinarily be treated as almost wholly distinct, 
when we ask ourselves which of them we will learn. It 
is not so with the sciences. These so far run into each 
other as to be in some sense one. They are but parts of 
a whole — the whole being nature in all her conditions. 
They are classified separately, but each involves some- 
thing of the others. Chemistry and natural philosophy 
underlie most of them, and it is impossible to know any 
one of them thoroughly without knowing something of 
at least some of the others. 

THE OBJECT SOUGHT. 

Now, with this fact in mind, the student must ask 
himself what his purpose is, in the study of science, 
and how much time he ought to give to its pursuit. If 
his object be to advance himself in any business in 
which a knowledge of chemistry, or of botany, or of 
mineralogy, or of some other branch of physics will be 
of special use, let him by all means pursue the study 
needed. 

If he simply wishes to become liberally educated, he 
will want to know all the more commonly studied 
sciences at least moderately well. 

The subjects with which the several sciences deal are 
manifest enough to need no explanation, and the stu- 
dent can make his selections advisedly from the first. 

HOW TO STUDY PHYSICS. 

Science is so largely experimental, as yet, that there 
can be no such thing as perfect and exact text-books on 
the subject. The chemists thought for many years 



^0 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

after chemistry became a recognized branch of physical 
study, that water was an elementary substance, and 
when the idea that it is a compound was first put 
forth, it was stoutly denied by nearly all the chem- 
ists of the day. Now our greatest scientists do not feel 
at all certain that they have as yet discovered any ab- 
solutely elementary substance. They are more confi- 
dent of carbon in this respect than of anything else, 
but they readily admit that even carbon may prove to 
be a compound. Everything about what we ordin- 
arily call the sciences is in a state of development and 
progress. We are learning new facts and correcting old 
errors every day. Every branch of scientific study is 
changing its teachings, and therefore there can be 
nothing like permanency in the text-books, and none 
but the latest of these should be used. 

This is the first point to be observed. Let the stu- 
dent get the very latest recognized authorities in every 
case, and when he shall come to study them, let him 
remember constantly that their statements of fact are 
in many cases only statements of the best received opi- 
nion as to facts still under investigation, and still but 
uncertainly known. It is only in this spirit, and with 
this understanding, that he can hope to benefit himself 
largely by the study of physics. 

The facts just stated lead, too, to another injunction. 
The student who would make himself anything moru 
than a mere parrot in his knowledge of physical 
science, must be to some extent a pioneer. He may 
accept authority in a general way, but he should always 
feel himself free to reverently doubt its conclusions, and 
to test them for himself by personal observation and 
experiment. There is no other way of accomplish- 



PHYSICAL SCIENCE. §1 

ing any worthy results in these branches of human 
learning, and I put these cautions at the fore, for the 
reason that their absence results in so many 
failures. 

In the study of science, whether on a large or small 
scale, whether in a general or a special way, no in- 
structor is at all necessary to the earnest student. The 
rudimentary parts are all easily learned from the text- 
books, and in our day there is no lack of able and ex- 
haustive treatises of a higher sort. All these may be 
mastered quite as well without as with a teacher, and 
while the apparatus and the collections of specimens in 
our colleges furnish excellent aids to the study of all 
the sciences, their absence is not fatal by any means. 
Plates su^Dply their places in part, and a little industry 
will enable the student to supply them still further in 
many ways. 

I know a woman, living in a retired country place, 
who without teachers has made herself an accom- 
plished botanist, and not only so, but she has, little 
by little, accumulated an herbarium that would do 
honor to a college, and her country garden has a bo- 
tanical corner where she has tested rare plants from 
every quarter of the world. 

I know a young man, too — or rather a boy, for he is 
hardly of age yet — who, with very meagre educational 
advantages of any sort, has so far mastered natural 
history as to have attracted the attention of distin- 
guished professors, who have been glad to avail them- 
selves of his services as an assistant in their work. Hia 
collection of specimens, too, is a very creditable one. 

I mention these things for the encouragement of 
students who wish to follow scientific studies, but 



92 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELP. 

doubt their ability to accomplish the purpose worthily 
without instructors and without access to the collections 
and cabinets of the colleges. 

So far as the sciences can be learned from books at 
ftU, they may be learned without masters. Beyond this 
the student will ordinarily have no need to go, unless 
he wishes to make a specialist of himself, and in that 
event he must resort to direct investigation on his own 
account, attaching himself, if possible to scientific 
expeditions, or in some other way securing the best 
conditions of study at his command. 



CHAPTEE Vn. 

MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 

THE VALUE OF THIS KIND OF STUDY. 

In marking out his schedule of studies there is no 
elass of subjects which the self-guided student so often 
overlooks as that which forms the subject of this chapter. 

It is worthy of remark that in the University of 
Virginia, and other institutions where the studies are 
optional, and where men graduate separately in the 
several schools, the students who do not work for de- 
grees more frequently omit studies of this class than 
those of any other. I have even known students in 
these institutions, who graduated in all the schools but 
this, and left without degrees, because they deemed the 
study of intellectual science so wholly valueless that 
they could not afford to devote to it even the limited 
time which would have been necessary to add its diplo- 
ma to their others, and thus to secure their degree. 

THE CAUSE OF THE MISTAKE. 

The mistake is a very natural one, doubtless, but 
none the less serious on that account. 

In our age and country the utilitarian idea has be- 
come so strong that it often transcends its proper 



94: HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

limits. People who measure everything by its practical 
value, are very apt to see utility only in those things 
which bring money to the purse ; and further than this 
they nearly always fail to reach sound conclusions even 
in this respect, by falling into the error of looking only 
at the value of the learning acquired in particular 
studies, estimating the culture at nothing. 

A moment's reflection should show the student the 
fallacy of both of these conclusions. Inasmuch as 
money is by no means the only good to be sought in 
life, things which do not add to the ability to make 
money may be quite as useful and quite as practical as 
those that do ; and in estimating even the money value 
of education, the culture it brings is quite as worthy 
of consideration as the learning incident to it. 

THE VALUE OF THESE STUDIES AS A MEANS OF CULTURE. 

Now as a means of high culture there is hardly any 
part of the college course more valuable than the 
studies embraced under the general head of moral and 
intellectual philosophy. It is true too that these 
studies are peculiarly valuable, even if they be mea- 
sured hj the most strictly practical standard. 

The object of education, as we have already seen, is 
to fit the man for life ; to prepare him to fill, as per- 
fectly as possible, his place in the world ; to enable him 
to do his best work for himself and for others, and cer- 
tainly no one should doubt that the cultivation and de- 
velopment of the reasoning faculties, and their instruc- 
tion in the laws which should govern all their opera- 
tions, are matters of moment to this end. At every 
step in life we are called upon to use precisely the facul- 
ties which are cultivated by studies of this class, and at 



MOEAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 95 

least half the failures and nearly all the blunders we 
make result from the imperfect or perverse action of 
these faculties., 

Of course no amount of training can make our judg- 
ments perfect, or enable us to reason infallibly on any 
speculative subject ; but from the study of intellectual 
philosophy we learn the principles of sound reasoning 
and cultivate habits of correct thought, which cannot 
fail to serve us in good stead throughout hfe. 

Eeason is our crown of glory. It is the ability to 
reason that chiefly distinguishes us from brute beasts, 
and elevates us above them, and certainly there can be 
no part of education more to be desired than that 
which deals with this faculty, teaches us its nature, and 
its laws, and trains us in its use. 

THEIR VALUE AS A PREPARATION S-OR OTHER STUDY. 

But aside from all this, the studies of this class are 
peculiarly valuable as aids to the mastery of others. 
The student who has trained himself somewhat in the 
abihty to reason logically, and has cultivated that abili- 
ty by following out the ratiocinations of able thinkers 
in the text-books which follow Logic, will find far less 
'difficulty in his study of mathematics and the physical 
sciences than he otherwise would, while the still larger 
education which comes from within rather than from 
without — the education of intelligent and systematic 
thought, can only come fully to those who have, in one 
way or another, cultivated themselves in this direction. 

Of course I do not mean to say that the art of rea- 
soning correctly is wholly an art to be learned, or that 
there are no studies other than those we are now con- 
sidering, which serve to cultivate and develop the facul- 



9b HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

ties in question. The mathematics do this in a very 
large degree, and other studies help, too, in their several 
ways. Even outside of study altogether, men cultivate 
the reasoning faculties constantly. But faculties so all- 
important as these should receive the best possible 
training and the fullest measure of it. It is not enough 
that we shall reason approximately well ; we need to rea- 
son at our very best, and to this end we need not only to 
exercise and cultivate these faculties of mind, but also to 
inform them fully as to their own processes, the rules that 
should govern them, the errors into which they are apt 
to fall,- and the tests by which the accuracy of their 
operations can be measured. To this end we need to 
Aearn logic theoretically and to familiarize ourselves with 
its apphcations in the text-books which follow logic in 
the regular order of studies. 

THE PRACTICAL WISDOM OF THEIR TEACHINGS. 

In addition to all this, we find in the course of study 
now under consideration much practical wisdom that 
every man needs ; inasmuch as our moral perceptions 
are never so keen or so perfect as they should be, we 
cannot fail to derive great benefit from a study of sys- 
tematic ethics. While we are yet children we may 
govern ourselves in the matter morals by the precepts 
of our natural advisers and guardians, but when we 
become men and women we need such a" grounding in 
the laws of morality that we shall be able to govern 
ourselves intelligently without leading-strings. Educa- 
tion contemplates the development and culture of the 
whole man, — the ripening of all his faculties, mental, 
moral, and physical, and the education which does not 



MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 97 

include the culture of the moral sense and its subjection 
to law, is lamentably deficient. 

The other studies of this class are similarly valuable. 
Our knowledge of Enghsh can never be what it should 
be, until we shall have learned something of the laws 
of figurative language, which, though not strictly a part 
of intellectual philosophy, are so nearly akin to it as to 
be classed with it in most courses of study. There is 
nothing in which young writers and speakers are more 
apt to blunder than in the use of figures of speech, and 
it is no uncommon thing for a reader to lose the 
force of a passage or to misconceive its meaning totally, 
from a want of just this training. 

The name thing is true of the other parts of Rheto- 
ric. They serve to perfect the student in the use of his 
mother tongue, and should if possible be added to the 
course of Enghsh study already prescribed in a former 
chapter. 

Political Economy deserves a large share of the atten- 
tion in any case, and with us, in a country where the 
people govern, or more properly, perhaps, where they 
could govern if they would, there is certainly no sub- 
ject of speculative study so universally needed. 

We all complain of mob rule, of the tyranny of pai- 
ties, of the reign of rings and cabals and cliques ; we 
all lament the corruption and the venality of our poli- 
tics, and yet we have only ourselves to blame for the 
lamentable facts of which we complain. We take no 
trouble to inform ourselves upon the principles of gov- 
ernment. We attach ourselves to parties. We call 
ourselves Democrats or Republicans as our prejudices 
may dictate, and blindly vote for the men nominated by 
the selfish managers of these parties, taking their doc- 



98 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

trines of governmental policy and their personal hon« 
esty upon trust, until our elections have come to be 
little more than a scramble for spoils. 

Now and then we meet men who dare to be indepen- 
dent ol party, and vote intelligently for the weal of the 
state ; but these are few indeed, and the great majority 
even of otherwise intelligent men vote the ticket 
of their party without inquiry as to the correctness of 
its principles, the wisdom or justice of its policy, or even 
the personal rectitude and trustworthiness of the men 
it commends to their suffrages. 

Every political platform is simply an insult to all in- 
telligent men. These documents profess to set forth 
the doctrines and policy advocated by the party and 
represented in its candidates. In point of fact they do 
nothing of the kind. They are simply cleverly executed 
palimpsests which may be read either way ; they are in- 
geniously contrived traps for the catching of votes, and 
when once their purpose has been served, nobody ever 
thinks of holding the officers, who have been elected 
upon them, to an honest fulfillment of their promises. 

These are notorious facts, and in them lies, without 
doubt, the greatest danger to which our republican in- 
stitutions are exposed. We are, as a people, altogether 
too ignorant of political economy, and we care too 
little about it. 

If we would govern ourselves well, and free our- 
selves from the despotism of corrupt parties, we must 
take the matter really and truly into our own hands. 
We must inform ourselves upon the laws of political 
economy and be prepared to vote as our convictions of 
justice and policy may dictate, without regard to the 
consistency which demands a perpetual adherence to a 



MOBAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 99 

party name ; and when any considerable portion of the 
American people shall do this, even though it be but a 
respectable minority, its possession of the " balance of 
power " will compel a purification of parties, and force 
them to set forth clearly, distinctly and honestly their 
real principles and purposes, and to carry them out 
faithfully when in power. 

That such an end is greatly to be desired, nobody 
will deny, and it can only be accomplished by individ- 
ual efforts. But if it shall never be reached even ap- 
proximately there is still no reason why the student 
should neglect to make himself as intelligently capa- 
ble as possible, of the performance of his duties as a 
citizen. 

THE ORDER AND METHODS OF STUDY. 

Having glanced thus briefly at the value and import- 
ance of studies of this class, we come now to the ques- 
tion of the order and the methods of their pursuit. 

Except that Logic underlies most of them to a great 
extent, and should therefore be the first of these sub- 
jects taken up, there is no very necessary order of se- 
quence to be preserved, and should circumstances make 
it desirable to alter the order I shall give, there will be 
no harm done. Otherwise I think the student's loro- 
gress will be more systematic and satisfactory if he will 
take them up somewhat as they are arranged below. 

He should begin with Logic, and his text-book need 
not be a very large or a very costly one. A compact, 
concise treatise on the subject will give him its princi- 
ples fully, and enlighten him sufficiently in regard to 
the modes of their application. A very excellent man- 
ual of this kind was issued some years ago by Profes- 



100 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

sor Coppee, of the United States Military Academy at 
West Point. The first edition, which is the only one 
I have seen, was full of typographical errors, many 
of them marring the sense ; but this defect has doubt- 
less been cured in later editions. If so, I know of no 
better work on the subject for the use of students with- 
out masters. Its statements of principle are singularly 
clear and concise ; its illustrations are very apt, and its 
brevity and cheapness are greatly in its favor. 

With such a text-book, of which there are several of 
nearly equal value, the student can easily master the 
elements of Logic. He will need only to read it care- 
fully twice — the first time slowly, that he may under- 
stand its principles in detail, the second time more ra- 
pidly, that he may fix the system, as a whole, in his 
mind. 

He should then take up Khetoric, studying it very 
much in the same way, but adding to the study of the 
book such exercises as will readily suggest themselves 
for the fixing of its rules in his mind, and for intelli- 
gent practice in its teachings. 

Archbishop Whateley's and Professor Coppee's treat- 
ises are as good, perhaps, as any others as elementary 
text-books, and their study should be followed by the 
perusal of works of a more elaborate kind on the sub- 
ject, such, for instance, as Campbell's Philosophy of 
Ehetoric. 

After completing the study of elementary Rhetoric, 
however, and before reading more exhaustive works on 
the subject, the student should read Lord's Laws of 
Figurative Language, or some similar manual, as a pro- 
per supplement to the study of systematic Rhetoric irj 
its elementary form. 



MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 101 

Next in order should come Ethics, and for an ele- 
mentary text-book, I know of nothing better than Dr. 
Francis Wayland's Elements of Moral Science, which 
is used more generally, perhaps, than any other, in the 
colleges of this country. It needs only a careful read- 
ing, to make its principles clear to the student's mind, 
and it should, if possible, be followed by some more 
elaborate work on the philosophy of morals, such for 
instance as Coleridge's Aids to Reflection, or Victor 
Cousin's The Good, Beautiful and True. 

Many students will find in the list already given as 
much labor as they can well devote to abstract studies 
of this kind. They will already have learned* some- 
thing of metaphysics, and will have no time to devote to 
the study of intellectual philosophy, pure and simple. 
These will need to pass at once to Political Econ- 
omy. 

But where the limitations of time are not so narrow, 
I strongly recommend a course in mental philosophy, 
strictly so called, and it should properly follow the 
studies we have just considered. 

The student should read Lord Bacon's NoATim Or- 
ganum, Locke on the Understanding, and Brown's 
Philosophy of the Human Mind, as text-books, to 
which, if he wishes to extend his philosophical reading, 
he may add, with advantage, the works of Herbert 
Spencer, Sir "William Hamilton, Dr. McCosh, President 
Noah Porter, John Stuart Mill, and others, as occasion 
may serve. 

The line between systematic, text-book study, and 
general reading is here so narrow that I add the fore- 
going catalogue of books in this place, though most of 



102 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

them belong rather to the chapter on General Read- 
ing. 

We come next to Political Economy ; and here again 
it is very difficult to draw the line between study, in the 
schoolroom sense of the term, and general reading. I 
content myself, therefore, with remarking that the stu- 
dent needs first to acquaint himself with the principles 
of political economy from some good text-book — Dr. 
Wayland's Elements is the best one for the purpose, I 
think — and then to read as largely on the subject as he 
can, taking care to examine both sides of the questiona 
on which our political philosophers differ widely. The 
chief of these is Free Trade vs. Protection, and on 
such a question the student should at least hear what 
both the schools have to say. If he has preconceived 
notions on the subject, as most of us have, there is the 
greater necessity for an examination of the arguments 
of the writers with whose conclusions he is at issue. 
For a brief but pretty complete course of reading on 
the subject I would recommend 

Adam Smith's " Wealth of Nations ;" 

John Stuart Mill's "Principles of Political Economy;'* 

Mill's " System of Political Economy ;" 

Horace Greeley's " Science of Political Economy," and 

H. C. Carey's " Political Economy." 

And these may be read in any order of sequence, 
without material change of result. 

I name these for the benefit of students who desire 
merely to make themselves familiar with the general 
features of the subject. Those who wish to study it 
thoroughly as a specialty, will of course read Bentham, 
DeQuincey, Malthus, Colton, M'Culloch,and a scure of 
other authors. 



MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE. 103 

A similar enlargement of the course in other direc- 
tions — logical, ethical or otherwise — will suggest itself 
to students who wish to make any of these a subject of 
special study, and for information as to the various 
books extant of these and other kinds, reference may 
be had to The Best Reading, a book published by 
Messrs. G.P. Putnam & Sons, in which the principal 
works on every subject are given in the alphabetical or- 
der of their authors' names, under alphabetically ar- 
ranged titles as to subject, class, etc., and their compar- 
ative standing in literature indicated as nearly as prac- 
ticable. The book may be had for a trifle, and cannot 
fail to be of very great service to any person who in- 
tends to read at all extensively, or to collect even the 
smallest library. 

Even where no such purpose exists, such classified 
dictionaries of books are valuable as reading matter, an 
will be seen in our next chapter. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



GENERAL BEADING. 



SOME WOEDS OF WARNING. 



The student who shall follow at all adequately the 
course of study sketched in the preceding chapters, 
will, at its conclusion, have completed a very fair curri- 
culum, and he will be master of most of the branches 
included in an ordinary collegiate education. 

But by all means let him not make the mistake, too 
often fatal even to collegians, of supposing that his ed- 
ucation is in any sense complete, and that he has 
enough either of the information or of the culture 
which constitute an education. In point of fact he has 
only learned how to educate himself and mastered the 
rudiments of his life studies. He has yet to read ex- 
tensively, and to think, — to study general hterature and 
to study men and things ; he has yet to become com- 
plete master of himself, — to learn much in the school 
of self-criticism, to apply what he has learned to the 
practical affairs of life, and to make it his guide to the 
acquisition of larger measures of information and cul- 
ture, — he has all this to do if he would reap the full 
rewards of his labor. And should he continue his work 



GENERAL READING. 105 

for a lifetime, there will still be more unlearned than 
learned, and the culture will still be imperfect. 

The point I would here enforce is simply this, that 
the course of study marked out for the student here 
and in the colleges, constitutes nothing more than an 
introduction to the real work of securing ripe scholar- 
ship and thorough culture. 

I would have the student learn that there is more of 
information and infinitely more of culture to be gained 
in the study of general literature and in actual intellec- 
tual work, than in the most thorough of collegiate train- 
ings. 

As a preparation for profitable reading and success- 
ful work, regular systematic study cannot be too highly 
esteemed, but it should never for a moment be 
mistaken for the end to which it is only the means. 

If, therefore, the student's time is so hmited that his 
pursuit of systematic study will seriously abridge hia 
after reading and other intellectual work, I strongly 
urge him to forego the former in large measure for the 
sake of the latter ; to content himself with a thorough 
mastery of the common school course I have recom- 
mended, and the merest outline of the one following it, 
that he may have time for the higher and better edu- 
cation of the library. 

Extensive general reading may make cultivated, well- 
informed, well-balanced men without much knowledge 
of the text-books ; but no amount of text-book study, 
without extensive reading, ever yet brought about such 
a result. 

I argue now, not against systematic study, but in favor 
of general reading. The study of text-books is an ad- 
mirable beginning in the work of education, but it is 



106 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

not the whole of that work. It is a means and not an 
end. It is very valuable, but not absolutely necessary 
in all cases, while a general acquaintance with literature, 
a large reading of books, is necessary, always to anything 
like thorough culture, and may, by itself, accomplish the 
result. 

Now, if the reader be indolent and inclined to self- 
indulgence, he will almost certainly construe these re- 
marks into an easy excuse for his neglect of text- 
books, and I cannot help it. He may rest assured, how- 
ever that indolent people are not the ones who manage 
to make reasonably well-educated men of themselves 
without much acquaintance with text-books, and that in 
any event his readiness to abandon the more laborious 
preliminary task argues badly for his success in the 
after work. 

The training of the regular course is the best possible 
preparation for the self-culture that comes after it, and 
the young man who deliberately omits this preparation 
gives small promise of success without it. 

The purpose of this volume is to tell the student 
what constitutes education, and how to secure as com- 
plete a one as his circumstances will permit. To 
this end I must show him the comparative impor- 
tance of the several parts of his work, so that he may 
select judiciously where he must select so me parts of 
the whole to the exclusion of others. My advice to 
every reader is, — Make your education as thorough, as 
wide, as complete and as well balanced as possible, but 
if you must omit some things belonging to the regular 
scheme, get all the light you can in regard to their com- 
parative values, and then select, for omission, those 
which are the least necessary, remembering all the time 



GENERAL READING. 107 

that every such omission is a loss which you cannot 
afford to sustain, if you can possibly help it. And this 
is precisely the extent of my meaning when I say that, 
as between text-book study and general reading, the 
preference should be given to general reading. 

AN EXCEPTION. 

To all this, however, there is one exception which 
must be made. In cases where for any good reason the 
student's purpose is the mastery of a specialty, he 
must of course make the text-books bearing on that 
specialty the basis of all his work, and must master 
them absolutely. But even this is an exception only in 
appearance, for students of this class, after they shall 
have mastered the text-books in their particular line, 
if their time is limited, will do better to pass at once 
to more general reading on the subject they have in 
hand, than to devote themselves to the study of text- 
books foreign to their purpose. 

WHAT TO READ. 

There is no question more frequently asked than 
" "What shall I read ?" Certainly there is no question 
more difficult to answer. 

No man ever yet read all that he might have read 
with profit, and no reading man ever read half that he 
would have liked to read. The best that any of us can 
do in the matter is to do our best. That is to say, we 
can only read a part of what we need and would like 
to read, governing our selections in this, as in every 
thing else, by the circumstances in which we are 
placed. 

An intelligent conception of the object we have in 



108 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

view, however, and a little attention to the peculiar ser- 
vice which each particular class of literature is capable 
of rendering us, will greatly aid us in determining in 
a general way what we will read, and for the rest we 
must trust largely to accident and impulse. 

If a man read only for amusement, he is very apt to 
read the most entertaining books within his reach, but 
in such cases accident has a large share in determining 
his selection. I have even known fairly intelligent men, 
when shut up under stress of weather at a country inn, 
where they could get nothing else, to read the dreary 
drivellings in sentimental annuals, rather than listen to 
the drearier drivellings of a tiresome landlord. 

In these and similar cases, accident is the evident 
determiner of the choice. But even where the stress of 
circumstance is not so sore, at least half our reading is 
in part accidental, or the result of impulse. And, after 
all, if the taste be reasonably well cultivated, and there is 
no special end in view, it is a pretty good plan to follow 
the advice of an old reader, who, when requested by a 
youngster to mark out a liberal course of reading for 
him, wrote in reply, " Eead just what you wish to read, — 
that is the most liberal course I can suggest." 

Even this, however, is a course of reading impossible 
to follow fully, for who that reads at all ever succeeded 
in reading half that he wished ? 

But the taste is not always well cultivated, and so is 
often an unsafe guide. 

Again, men do not all read merely for amusement, and 
those who care to make use of this manual are only 
those whose reading is for a definite purpose of some 
sort, general or particular. Now the differences of j)ur- 
pose on the part of different people make all the differ- 



GENERAL EEADING. 109 

ence in the world in the answers that shonld be given 
to the question we are considering. 

The first thing to be determined, therefore, is the 
purpose for which you intend to read, and the purposes 
of different people in this regard are as various as can 
well be imagined. 

I remember hearing a young man ask an old reader 
what he should read, when a conversation something 
like this ensued: 

Old- Reader. — What do you want to read for ? 

Young Man. — That is rather a difficult question to 
answer. 

Old Reader. — Very well. But you must answer it be- 
fore I can possibly advise you what to read. If you 
wish to become a physician, I would strongly advise you 
to read standard medical works in preference to any 
others. If you aspire to the law, you might begin with 
Blackstone as an introductory work, following it up 
Kent's Commentaries and 

Young Man. — ^I don't want anything of that sort ; I 
only want to inform myself generally. 

Old Reader. — Very well. But I doubt that. Do you 
mean that you really wish to become a well-informed 
man, or do you merely wish to appear so — to be able to 
join in conversations on a great variety of subjects, and 
make a fair showing in society ? 

The young man admitted that this last was about his 
idea, though he seemed to have just discovered the 
fact. 

"Very well, I say again," said the old reader, "your 
object is a very common one, and is easily accom- 
phshed. You have only to read Burton's Anatomy of 
Melancholy. If you can stand a little more, it would be 



110 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

well enough to add Shakspeare to the list. Tho Bible 
you will read, of course." 

The old reader was right. The purpose the young 
man had in view is a very common one, and the short- 
est i^ossible road to its accomplishment is the one his 
adviser pointed out. 

The incident serves also to show how essential it is 
to an intelligent selection of reading-matter that the 
prospective .reader shall know precisely what are his 
objects in reading. In this, as in everything el^e, he 
should ascertain what he wants before he sets about 
the task of selecting it. 

And yet this is rarely done. People who want to 
read are very apt either to trust blindly to accident, or 
to ask somebody to mark out a course for them to fol- 
low, or to adopt from some autobiography or other the 
course its author wishes that he had followed. 

COURSES OF READING. 

As a rule, set courses of reading are not advisable. 
In the first place, the cases in which they are faithfully 
followed are very few indeed, and where they are begun 
and after a while abandoned, a serious injury is done to 
to the reader, by his failure to carry out a purpose de- 
liberately formed. 

But aside from this, it is impossible for any person to 
decide, in advance of the reading, just what set of books 
will best accomplish his purpose. Sux^pose, for the 
sake of example, that the student wishes to make him- 
self acquainted with the history of the times of the Stu- 
arts, At the outset his course seems plain enough. 
There are half a dozen histories to be read, and a few 
books of the period to be looked over. But before he 



GENERAL READING. Ill 

shall have fairly started in his first history he will find 
that he needs to know something of the history of Eng- 
land previous to the accession of James the First. Then 
he will find that a clear comprehension of this much of 
Enghsh history is only possible to people who know, in 
a general way, the history of Europe during the middle 
ages. He will want also to know the causes of the Re- 
formation, and of the peculiarities of the English revolt 
fi-om Catholicism. To this end he must read something 
of church history and theological controversy. Many 
such necessities will arise, and it is hardly probable that 
the student can have marked out in the beginning just 
the books he now finds it necessary to read. He must 
either abandon the course originally determined upon 
and adopt a very different one, or else he must go on 
with the consciousness that he is allowing his pre- 
conceived rule of action to thwart the purpose it was 
designed to further. 

All this is still more apphcable, of course, to those 
cases in which the purpose is wider and more compre- 
hensive than the one supposed above. It is not possi- 
ble that the student, before he has begun his course of 
reading, can be at all competent to decide of what that 
course shall consist. 

And the case is not changed materially by the calling 
in of a friend to act as adviser, for the best that he can 
do practically is to mark out two or three or four 
courses, between which the student must himself 
choose, and this is precisely what he is incompetent to 
do wisely. 

The better plan, and indeed the only plan at all 
practicable, is to determine clearly your purpose in 
reading, and then to choose your books as you go on, 



J 12 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

with strict reference to that purpose. You will find 
at every step abundant suggestions as to the next books 
to be taken up, and the only embarrassment with 
which you will meet will be that arising from the very 
multiplicity of desirable text-books. 

I once knew a literary man who wanted to write an 
article on cats, and knowing very little about the sub- 
ject he set himself to work reading up. He told me 
that in the outset he expected to find nothing 
about the animals in question, outside of the encyclo- 
pedias and natural histories. His first examination of 
one of these suggested four books to be consulted. 
These made frequent reference to others, and becoming 
interested in his subject he bought, before he knew it, 
a whole shelf full of cat literature, and then, as a matter 
of economy, began to frequent the great public libraries 
in search of the hundreds of other books from each of 
which something was to be learned about cats. He 
quitted the subject at last, but felt in quitting that he 
had not exhausted it. 

Precisely the same thing may be done in any direc- 
tion, and the only difficulty often is to know when to 
quit the pursuit of a topic for something else, and here 
again the predetermined purpose will be the best 
guide. 

SOME GOOD RULES. 

Believing as I do that prearranged courses of reading 
are not advisable, I shall of course mark out none, and 
holding that the reader should in every case decide for 
himself what he will read, I shall make no attempt to 
decide for him. But a few suggestions may enable him 
to see his own way more clearly. 



GENERAL READING. 113 



READING UP. 

Of course, when there is a particular subject on which 
the student wishes to inform himself, his only course is 
to " read up " on it, as the hack writers say, and the 
extent to which he should do this will be measured in 
each case by the extent of the need suggesting it. If he 
desires to make himself thorough master of a specialty, 
in all its bearings, he must read carefully everything he 
can find having reference to it. If he merely wishes to 
acquaint himself generally with the subject, a less elabo- 
rate reading will suffice. 

There are many people who do all their reading in 
this way, and in the end they become pretty well in- 
formed on most subjects, but I doubt the wisdom of 
such a course where there are no circumstances to make 
it necessary. It is not productive of as much culture as 
other systems are, and jDeople who practice it are very 
apt to read nothing at all at times when they have no 
special subject in hot chase. And yet the plan has the 
sanction of some great names. Among others Bichard 
Brinsley Sheridan and Oliver Goldsmith are notable 
examples. It is related of the former that on one oc- 
casion, when a great financial question was under con- 
sideration in the House of Commons, he announced 
that he intended to speak upon it. His friends re- 
ceived the announcement witli wondering smiles, as 
Sheridan was proverbial for his utter ignorance of 
figures. He had four days, however, in which to " read 
up," and at the end of that time he delivered one of the 
most masterly arithmetical arguments ever heard in the 
House. 

His success showed what he could do in the way of 



114: HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

" cramming ;" but with all his brilliancy, it can hardly 
be said that Sheridan was a very good model for any- 
body's following. 

READING TO CURE DEFECTS. 

There is one respect, however, in which it is very de- 
sirable that all our reading should be to some extent of 
this character. As in text-book study, so also in gene- 
ral reading, an effort should be made to supply defects 
both of information and of culture. The weak places 
need, and should have a constant strengthening. It is 
in these points that we fail, and it is of the utmost im- 
portance that our intellectual armor be made as com- 
plete and perfect as possible. 

To this end the student must carefully study himself 
as his master would study him, recognizing every fault 
and every defect, in order that he may know clearly 
what he has to supply. 

So far as the mere acquisition of information is con- 
cerned, this task is an easy one, but in the matter of 
culture it is more difficult, though even here we may 
know ourselves reasonably well if we choose to make 
the effort fairly and with as little prejudice as possible. 
Indeed we must do it, if we would make anything like 
well-balanced men and women of ourselves. 

Having discovered important defects in his culture 
or his stock of information, the student should give 
himself at once to the work of curing them by reading 
such books as are best adapted to the accomplishment 
of that end. 

READING TO STRENGTHEN STRONG POINTS. 

On the other hand, if the student recognizes in him 



GENERAL READING. 116 

self any point of peculiar strength — anything in -which 
he is likely, from peculiar constitution or taste, to 
achieve an especial success, it will always be best for 
him to subordinate everything else to the cultivation of 
the one faculty which constitutes his strength. 

READING BOTH SIDES. 

In either case, whether the student reads for the full 
rounding of his education or for its perfection in a sin- 
gle direction, there is nothing more important than that 
he shall read both sides of every question he shall take 
up. If he read Hume's History of England, for instance, 
that reading will make Lingard almost a necessity to 
him. 

That this is true of all speculative and historical Hte- 
rature is apparent, but the principle has a wider appli- 
cation than this. Even in matters of mere taste it is 
well to cultivate catholicity, and so it is a good plan to 
select poetry and other imaginative literature with re- 
ference to the cultivation of a wide and generous appre- 
ciativeness that shall embrace something more than a 
single school of poets or novelists. Mr. Thackeray re- 
joiced in his daughter's persistent and perpetual read- 
ing of Dickens, but it would have been greatly better 
for her had she turned sometimes from Nicholas Nic- 
kleby to Vanity Fair, even if she had made no more 
radical change of intellectual diet, for the prevention of 
intellectual dyspepsia. 

HOW MUCH OF A BOOK TO READ. 

Inasmuch as we cannot possibly read half or even a 
tenth of the books we would like to read, it is very im- 
portant that we waste no time reading the less desira- 
ble portions of the books we do take up. 



116 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

It is a rule often laid down for readers that they 
should never begin a book without going entirely 
through it. Now if every book contained only cream, 
and if there were only a very few books in the world 
worth reading, this would be excellent advice. But un- 
fortunately there is a good deal of very thin skim-milk 
in many books that have some cream in them, and there 
are many more valuable books than any one can read. 

When our purpose with a book has been served — 
when we have read those parts of it that we want, it is 
simply a waste of precious time to go on reading the 
parts that we do not particularly want, even though 
they be good in themselves, when there are so many 
other books that we greatly need to read. 

Suppose, for instance, that you are studying the sub- 
ject of popular education. In the middle of Mr. Her- 
bert Spencer's Social Statics there is a chapter bear- 
ing upon the subject which you must certainly read. 
When you shall have read that, it would be simply ab- 
surd for you to go on and read the remainder of the 
book, although every chapter of it is valuable. You 
are reading for a particular purpose, and you have 
many books to read before that purpose will be accom- 
plished. The one chapter is all that this book has to 
offer you in this particular direction, and you certainly 
cannot afford to spend time that should be given to 
other works on the subject, in reading the excellent 
chapters of Social Statics which do not bear upon it. 

Dr. Johnson's advice was much sounder. His maxim 
was, " When you open a book, and become interested in 
the middle of it, never stop to begin at the beginning." 
The rule is a very good one in its letter, and a much 
better one in its spirit, which clearly is that we should 



GENERAL READING. 117 

take pains to get at what we want in every book, with 
as httle loss of time as possible. Himself an omnivo- 
rous reader, he knew thoroughly well the art of getting 
promptly at the kernels of all his books. 

KEADING ABOUT BOOKS. 

To be at all well-informed, one must know a good 
deal about books which he cannot possibly find time to 
read. He must know the authorship, the character, and 
history generally of vastly more books than he could 
possibly read in half a dozen lifetimes. He must know 
whence they came, what peculiar circumstances are 
connected with them, who their authors are, to what 
discussions they have given rise, what their effect upon 
the world has been, and what is their literary level. Not 
that all these things can be remembered in every case, 
or that they should be even deliberately studied in de- 
tail. But one's reading should at least have some refer- 
ence to this, and he should seek to become thus ac- 
quainted with literature as a whole. 

To this end even publishers' catalogues are not with- 
out value, particularly when they are at all full in their 
descriptions. But much better than these are well di- 
gested books about books, such as the one already re- 
ferred to.* Such a volume may be had for a trifle, and 
in addition to its value for reference, it has the ad- 
ditional merit of furnishing its reader a comprehensive 
view of literature as it is, and a well digested in- 
dex to the subject he has in hand. The reader who 
shall give a day or two to such a volume will learn what 
every person must know more or less thoroughly to be 

* The Best Reading. 



118 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELF. 

well informed — namely, what books each author haa 
given to the world ; who is the author of each of the 
books we hear spoken of in conversation ; to what class 
of literature each belongs ; of wliat it treats, and what 
is the position assigned to it in literature by the best of 
our critics. 

He will learn, in short, the outside of literature, — ^he 
will have before him an excellent map of the literary 
world, and will gain from it a valuable knowledge of 
those parts of it over which he cannot travel in 
person. 

But it is not enough that he shall know this much of 
the books which he cannot hope to read. There are 
very many of the books that we have no time to read, 
about which we need to know something more than 
their titles and similar matters, and this is most readily 
accomplished by the reading of intelligent criticism. 

Of some books an elaborate review is worth reading, 
but these, for the most part, are books which must 
themselves be read by every person who makes any 
effort to keep up with current literature, and so the briefer 
notices given in our monthly magazines of the better 
class, and even those which we find in the great metro- 
politan dailies, are of very great value as furnishing the 
information we need about the books which we have no 
time to read, but concerning which every intelligent 
man needs to know something. 

DANGEROUS EEADINQ. 

Almost any kind of reading matter, if read to the 
exclusion of everything else, becomes dangerous. It is 
never well to cultivate a one-sided mental habit. An 
intellectual diet, consisting only of poetry, even though 



GENERAL READING. 119 

the poetry be always of the best, is quite as bad as a 
physical feeding on nothing but pastry. Dyspepsia, in 
physical form, is not worse than its intellectual counter- 
part. 

This particular danger is all the greater for the reason 
that people whose tastes lead them to confine their read- 
ing largely to a single kind of hteratur^ are always 
people whose minds need balancing in precisely the 
opposite direction. A taste so strong for poetry, or 
other ideal literature, that its possessor cares for noth- 
ing else, indicates a pressing necessity for the cultivation 
of the more practical faculties. And so it is with every 
other such leaning. 

The student may very properly entertain preferences 
of this kind, and he is safe enough in allowing them to 
lead him to a reasonable extent, but he should at all 
events take pains to preserve the balance which he has 
cultivated, and whenever he finds his taste leading him 
into excess in one direction, it is his business at once to 
restrain and correct it by studies of an opposite cha- 
racter. 

I have already advised the cultivation and develop- 
ment of strong points in every ease, but strong points be- 
come points of weakness if they are allowed to control 
the whole man. 

A little novel-reading may be absolutely necessary to 
the intellectual equilibrium of a metaphysical or math- 
ematical enthusiast, while there are men and women in 
whom the reading of fiction has destroyed all that there 
ever was in them of intellectual vigor, simply because 
their tendencies and tastes were all in one direction, 
and no care was taken to turn them in any other. 

I cannot too strongly impress upon the student the 



120 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

necessity of guarding himself against all such dangers. 
He should know himself as thoroughly as possible, that 
he may know and supply his own intellectual wants ; 
but above all, he should see to it that his reading is va- 
ried in its character, and that his changes of intellect- 
ual food are not left to caprice or chance. He should 
read some novels, certainly ; a good deal of poetry, 
without doubt ; some speculative literature ; a good 
deal of biography, and more of history. If any one 
class of books please him above the rest, he will cer- 
tainly read enough of that, but he should take good 
care that its precise opposite receives a full share of at- 
tention. 

There is one other danger which comes to every 
reader. We must all read the newspapers, of course; 
]jut to read even one large paper entirely through every 
day requires a considerable expenditure of time. Now 
the truth is, that unless one reads newspapers in the 
way of business there is very httle in one that any one 
person needs to read. There may be nothing in the 
paper that should be omitted from it — nothing which 
will not meet the wants of some reader ; but at the 
same time the parts that any single individual needs 
more than he needs the time it would take to read 
them, are very few and very small. Every reader 
should learn to find these readily, and he should read 
nothing else in the paper. 

The head-lines and the typographical peculiarities of 
the several parts will enable an attentive reader to see 
at a glance what he wants and can afford to read ; but 
curiosity or carelessness leads nearly all of us to read 
vastly more of our newspapers than this, to the great 
wasting of very valuable time. A httle care will ena- 



GENERAL READING. 121 

ble the student to avoid this, and avoid it he must, if he 
would economize his time properly. 

In the reading of magazines and literary papers there 
is a similar danger, though it exists in much smaller de- 
gree, inasmuch as these are more strictly literary in 
their character, and have therefore no occasion to sup- 
ply matter of no use to the majority of readers. 

A SCHEDULE OF READING-MATTER. 

I have already said that set courses of reading are 
usually valueless, and that it is no part of my purpose 
to supply anything of the kind. But in carrying out 
the plan I have suggested, of properly apportioning 
the different kinds of reading, it will be convenient for 
the student to keep in mind some distinct classification 
of literature, more or less elaborate, according to cir- 
cumstances 

In a general way, the following will answer very well 
as a basis for such a classification as will be found 
necessary : 

History, Physical Science, 

Biography, Poetry, 

Philosophy, Fiction, 

Travels and Explorations, Specialties : ( Theology, 

Law, unythingprqfessional.) 
The comparative value and importance of these seve- 
ral classes of literature is an indeterminate one, and 
it varies with the wants, the temperament, the capabili- 
ties, and the circumstances of each student. 

In a general way, where there are no circumstances 
making one of these more important than the others, 
and where the object is simply the improvement of the 
reader, some attention should be given to each, and tha 



122 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

beut of the reader will ordinarily indicate whicli should 
enter most largely into the course. 

For most readers History (including philosophical 
essays on historical subjects) should form the larger 
part of the course, inasmuch as it supplies at once a 
vast stock of information, and an equally large share oi 
culture . 

NOVEL READING. 

In point of fact, there will ordinarily be more fiction 
read than anything else. In our day we have stories 
and stories, and without entering into any discussion 
whatever of the merits of novel-reading, I may safe- 
ly say that most people read too much fiction, and 
certainly a large part of the fictitious literature of 
the day — even after excluding all of the trash — is 
without any especial value to the reader, while the time 
its perusal occupies greatly limits the amount of other 
reading possible. 

My advice to the student is, to read about half of 
Dickens's novels ; one or two of George Eliot's ; one or 
two of Bulwer's best ; most of Scott's — these being his- 
tory as much as anything else; — ^Vanity Fair, and one or 
two others of Thackeray's ; a few of the older Eng- 
lish novels of standard reputation, with one or two of 
the best of our American books of the sort. 

There are many others absorbingly interesting and 
without positively objectionable characteristics of any 
kind, but life is too short for the reading even of all the 
good novels in print — particularly if the reader wishes to 
do anything else in the world. 

Such a list as the one given above, will occupy aa 
large a portion of time as most of us can afford to givd 



GENERAL READING. 123 

to novel-reading, and the man who has read all, or 
nearly all, the books mentioned, is as well read in the 
matter of novels as anybody needs to be, unless hia 
reading is very extensive, in which case a larger amount 
of fiction would be well enough. A healthful propor- 
tion is what we should aim to maintain. 

But these should not be read at the beginning of the 
course, nor should any considerable number of them be 
read consecutively. It is best first to form a taste for 
something less exciting, and to avoid impairing that 
taste afterwards, by an injudicious amount of novel- 
reading at any one time. 

THE BEADING OF HISTOKY. 

I have before me, as I write, a letter from a young 
man who says that his education thus far has been 
mainly self-conducted, and that having completed his 
text-book study, he wishes now to become a well- 
read man. To this end he understands that he must 
know something of history, and he writes to ascertain 
how much of history is necessary, " for," continues the 
letter, " I want to read just as little of dry chronicles as 
I can get on with." 

Now the case of this young man is not an exceptional 
one by any means. He will never be even a tolerably 
well-informed person, as a matter of course, unless his 
ideas shall undergo a radical change, which is hardly 
probable. But there are two or three mistakes which 
he makes in common with many other people, and hia 
case furnishes me an opportunity to correct them in the 
minds of more hopeful students. 

In the first place it is no less a mistake to suppose 
that intelligence may begotten by an indolent, shirking 



124 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

system of reading, than to imagine that text-books will 
yield their treasures to the careless and listless student. 
The man who begins a course of reading with the wish 
to make it as meagre as possible, is not likely ever to 
make it of any great value to himself. It is only those 
who hunger after information that manage to digest it, 
and the desire and the purpose must be stronger than 
they seem to be in the mind of my correspondent, be- 
fore there can be reasonable hope that they will bring 
about anything hke satisfactory results. 

There are cases in which the student feels, at first, 
but little pleasure in reading, but resolutely pursues his 
course from a strong desire to profit by his labor, and 
to such the pleasure soon comes to strengthen the 
purpose. But when the purpose itself is weak, and no 
pleasure is felt in the self-imposed task, a vague wish 
to be well informed, or to appear so, is not sufiicient to 
keep the man at his work, and he might almost as well 
abandon the purpose in the outset. 

A second error is the assumption that history is a 
matter of dry chronicling. It is a series of chronicles, 
of course, but so is every novel, for that matter. The 
events in the one case are real, and in the other imagi- 
nary, and this far history has the advantage. There is 
less of unity in history than in fiction, but as a 
whole, the former is no less startlingiy dramatic than 
the latter, and to a healthful taste there is quite as 
much of absorbing interest in true stories of men's 
deeds as in fictitious ones. 

While we are upon the subject of historical reading, 
let me add a few suggestions which may be of service. 

Compends of history are almost worthless as original 
reading. To bring them within the required limits it 



GENERAL READING. 125 

becomes necessary to eliminate nearly everything of 
value from the narration, and that which is left is but 
the merest skeleton of the tale they are intended to tell. 
It is not possible to learn history from books of this 
8ort, and as histories they are worthless. They are to 
history just what epitomes of English literature are to 
English literature in its fullness, and properly used 
they have their value, just as these have theirs in their 
proper spheres. 

It is a very good plan, after the student has complet- 
ed an extended course of history, either general or spe- 
cial, to take up an abridgment or brief compend, cover- 
ing the same ground. By this means the course which 
has been read will be easily reviewed, and the student 
will have at a single glance a comprehensive view of the 
whole course over which he has travelled. This is the 
use, and almost the only good use to which brief histo- 
rical compends can be put. 

I have already pointed out the necessity of re ading 
both sides in history, as in everything else. I must 
also caution the student against a habit of accepting 
authority on historical matters unquestioningly. 

Passion, prejudice, circumstances of all kinds, enter 
largely into the telhng of the world's story, and he 
who would get at the truth must weigh carefully the 
]3robabilities in every doubtful case, and make due al- 
lowance for all these in making up his opinions. 

But aside from the fact that such a practice is neces- 
sary to the discovery of truth, it is even more import- 
ant as a habit of mind tending to healthful culture. It 
exercises the judgment and it cultivates a wholesome 
habit of doubting and investigating, the value of which 
can hardly be over-estimated. 



126 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELF. 

In reading history it is well to remember that specu- 
lative essays upon historical subjects are quite as im- 
portant a part of history as the narrative itself, and it 
is an excellent plan to follow every course of history 
proper with the best essays to be had upon the events 
or the men involved. 

These sometimes take the shape of biographies — 
sometimes they appear as book reviews, and sometimes 
they come to us professing to be just what they are. 
But whatever their shape, they are peculiarly valuable. 
They furnish at once a brief review of the history read, 
and a thoughtful commentary upon it. 

POETRY. 

In reading poetry, the especial purpose, aside from 
amusement, is the cultivation of aesthetic feeling. To 
cultivate this worthily it is necessary that everything be 
avoided which will tend to warp the taste or to make 
it one-sided. To a great extent we read poetry 
only for the sake of the amusement it affords, and to 
that extent our selection is dictated by our tastes, but it 
is well enough to let the judgment have some control 
even here. I have known ill results to follow from the 
too exclusive reading of the works of a single poet 
or a single school of poets, and this is the fault against 
which I would especially caution the reader. 

We need nothing so much as catholicity, both of 
opinion and taste, and this can be secured only by 
careful culture. 

Especially is this true in matters of literary taste. 
We not only need to know what different poets have 
written, and their several characteristics, but we need, 
quite as imperatively, to so far cultivate a catholicity of 



GENERAL READING. 127 

taste that we can appreciate the merits and the beauties 
of each. Our reading of poetry, whether it be a 
limited or an extensive one, should in any event em- 
brace as large a variety as possible. There are people 
who appreciate Byron, and Scott, and Shelley, or 
Pope, and Dryden, and there are others who love 
Wordsworth, and Longfellow, and Tennyson. Very 
much smaller is the class of people who love and appre- 
ciate all of these and others, but these few are they who 
see more of beauty in each than the special lovers of 
each will ever see there, and who are able to set down 
every singer at his proper valuation. 

With this sole caution, I say to the reader, follow the 
bent of your own taste in the matter of poetry, just as 
you would in regard to pictures, or any other creations 
of art. Let your taste be your chief guide in matters of 
taste, but take care to cultivate it judiciously, in order 
that it may be a safe and competent guide. 

BIOGRAPHY, ETC. 

Biography, Travels, Explorations, and similar mat- 
ters are, to a great extent, but history in another foi-m. 
The story of a leading man's life is the story of his 
times. Travels and explorations usually contribute to 
history, past or present, more than to anything else, and 
the accounts given of them by the tra.veller are histories 
in themselves. 

In a general way, what has been said in regard to the 
study of history applies equally to the reading of books 
of this sort, except that it should be remembered that 
biographies and books of travel are often slices of his- 
tory cut uncommonly thick. If we read an extended 
biography of any but the very foremost man of his 



128 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUESELP. 

age, we may be devoting to a small segment of the 
world's history an amount of time wholly out of pro- 
portion to its relative importance. And the same thing 
is true of other books of this class. 

As a rule, therefore, it is best to avoid merely histo- 
rical biographies as a part of historical reading where 
their subject was not pre-eminently the foremost man 
of his age — where his story is not wholly the story of 
his time in some respect. 

There is another trouble with biographies, which 
should be borne constantly in mind while they are in 
reading, and that is, that the personal element enters 
very largely into their composition. Men who write 
biographies do so, very generally, for the purpose of 
exalting or depreciating the man who forms the subject 
of their work, or to do the same thing for some mea- 
sure with which his life was in some way interwoven. 
They write the man's life because they greatly admire 
or particularly detest him or his theories, or because 
they wish to advance some particular end, or for some 
other reason equally fatal to fairness. Whether con- 
scious of it or not, the writers of this kind of biogra- 
phies almost always occupy the position of an advocate 
rather than that of a judge, and this is not the way in 
which history should be written. 

There are, of course, exceptions to this, but they are 
the exceptions merely, and not the rule, and what I 
would urge upon the student is the necessity of taking 
care to give this personal element its full weight in de- 
termining the value of conclusions drawn from books 
of this class. 

On the other hand, however, it must be remembered 
that biography is, to very many people, the most at- 



GENEEAL BEADING. liJ9 

tractive form in which history can be put, and hence its 

usefulness, as mere history, is very great. 

Again, there are biographies not historical — stories of 
the Hves of men whose lives form no part of public his- 
tory. These are close studies of human development, 
and form an admirable department of reading by them- 
selves. To these, what I have said of merely histori- 
cal biography does not apply at all, and to some extent 
all written lives of individual men partake of this ex- 
cellent quahty, when the work is at all well done, and 
from this point of view biography has a value wholly 
apart from its worth as history. 

DICTIONARIES AS READING-MATTER. 

The book must be a very bad, or an extremely poor 
one, which has nothing in it worth reading, when there 
is nothing better at hand. 

There are so many books which we need to read 
and cannot for want of time, that very many good ones 
must be left unread, so that we may have time for 
the ones most, imperatively necessary to us. Compara- 
tively there are vast numbers of books not worth the 
reading, — positively there are very few, except the 
trashy ones known as sensational novels. 

That is to say, there are very few books which 
are not well worth the reading when there are no bet- 
ter ones at hand, and so there will come times to every 
one of us when we can take up and read books which 
we should never select where there is room for selection, 
but which are in themselves vv^orth the reading. It is a 
good rule never to be caught anywhere without a 
good supply of reading- matter, but very few of us live 
strictly up to it. The next best thing is to know how 



130 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

to make the most of such literature as we can get when 
our choice is a very limited one under stress of circum- 
Btance. 

I remember a strongly illustrative case in point. 
I spent nearly a week once in a little village in Ten- 
nessee, during a rainy season, when walking out of doors 
was simply out of the question. The only books to be 
had at all were the Children of the Abbey, Tupper's Pro- 
verbial Philosophy, and about one half of an old John- 
son's Dictionary. 

Doubtless I might have got something out of Tupper, 
and possibly a vague shadow of amusement out of the 
Children of the Abbey, but the old Dictionary was 
by odds the most promising of the three, and I read 
it for five consecutive days, making some curious word- 
studies in which I became greatly interested. From 
that day to this, I have never been at a loss for some- 
thing to read in any house containing a dictionary, and 
I strongly commend all dictionaries and books of that 
kind as reading matter of a very interesting and 
instructive character. Their value as books of reference 
is not their only value by any means, even if this be 
their chief use. It will pay to go through an unabridged 
Webster or Worcester once or twice at least during a 
lifetime, not reading everything in it by any means, 
but picking out here and there the things one wants. 

Still more interesting is a biographical dictionary, or 
the dictionary of some technical specialty, if the spe- 
cialty be one in which the reader feels an interest, and 
a good encyclopedia is always a treasure. Not that 
anybody should think of reading any one of these 
regularly through, or taking it up as set task -work. 
But there are odd times when we have nothing else at 



GENERAL READING. 131 

hand, or when we care for nothing else for the moment, 
and at such times one cannot do better than to turn the 
leaves of a good dictionary, or encyclopedia, in search 
of something which will strike the fancy. 



CHAPTER IX. 

BOW TO STZTDT AND BEAD TO THE BEST ADVAXTAGJE: 

A GOOD many of the suggestions I shall give in this 
concluding chapter follow as corollaries from the teach- 
ings already given. Some of them are but recapitula- 
tions of the suggestions scattered through former chap- 
ters ; others have found no place there. 

They are grouped together here for the sake of the 
student's convenience, and because they constitute a 
fitting conclusion to my little book. 

A PIIACTICAL EDUCATION. 

The end to be aimed at in every case should, of 
course, be the securing of as wide and perfect and com- 
plete a culture as possible, and the acquisition of as 
much information as the limits of time and opportunity 
will allow. 

We have already seen that the perfect, ideal educa- 
tion is that which completely and perfectly develops the 
man, bringing all his faculties into full play, and sup- 
plying each with all the information necessary to its 
very best work. 

Practically the best education to be secured is one 
which falls far short of this, and the best educated pco- 



HOW TO STUDY AND READ. 133 

pie we have are those who know some one thing thor- 
oughly, and have a general acquaintance with others. 
Practically, this should be the object aimed at by every 
student, and it should constitute the basis of all his 
work. But in projecting and pursuing a course of 
study and reading with this end in view, there is always 
the danger of giving to the one thing too great a share 
of attention, and so faihng to accomplish the equally 
important purpose of making one's self acquainted 
generally with other branches of human knowledge. 
This danger comes to every student, and it cannot be 
too carefully avoided. 

ECONOMY OF TIME. 

Every student whose purpose is in any way a worthy 
one, will find his time far less abundant than he could 
wish, and therefore it becomes especially necessary that 
he shall economize it carefully ; and there are many 
ways in which this may be done. 

Whenever a book is taken up, whether for study as a 
text-book or only for reading, the purpose it is to serve 
and the limits of its capacity to serve that purpose, 
should be distinctly recognized. The student should 
ask himself — " Why do I want this book ? What can 
it give me ? How much of it is worth more to me than 
the time I must give to its reading?" He should 
always remember that no book yields anything gratis ; 
that he pays, in the coin of precious time, for every- 
thing he gets out of books, and that it is the worst 
kind of extravagance to read any book, or any part of 
any book, which does not yield to the reader something 
of more value to him than is the time given to the 



134 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

reading. We cannot afford to read even good books 
when there are better or more necessary ones awaiting 
our attention. And this is equally true of parts of 
books. By a little attention to this the student will 
save a great deal of time. When he shall have read as 
much of a book as he can afford to read, let him drop 
it at once, in order that he may have time for others. 

A great deal of time is wasted, too, by a habit of in- 
attention, and the student should take the utmost care 
to avoid the formation of such a habit, or to cure it if 
it is already formed. It is easy enough to do this, if 
only the purpose be strong enough. You have only to 
begin with very short terms of study, letting them 
be as frequent in their recurrence as possible. Whenever 
your attention shall flag, make an effort to keep it fixed, 
and the moment you shall find yourself unable to control 
it longer, cease to study. Take a walk, work in your gar- 
den, or do something else which will rest your mind, and 
after a brief period of physical exertion, return to your 
studies. With every return you will be able to fix your 
attention for a longer period than before, and your ha- 
bit will soon be cured. 

It is always bad to go on reading when the mind is 
occupied with something else. Such a practice fixes 
upon the mind and the eye a habit of separate action, 
which soon becomes chronic, and the habit is fatal to 
profitable reading. 

\ 

WHAT TO DO WITH THE ^MEMORY. 

There is a good deal of nonsense talked, concerning 
the cultivation of the memory, and a good deal of harm 
done in attempts to develop it abnormally, as well as 



HOW TO STUDY AND READ. 135 

in making a misuse of it in the study of matters with 
the real learning of which it has very little to do. 

Paradoxical as it may seem, prodigious memories are 
b} no means very rare. "Lightning calculators" have 
been known almost as long as arithmetic, although they 
have rarely been men who really knew arithmetic, mar- 
vellous as their power of conjuring with figures has 
always appeared to be to the gaping crowd. The world 
has always had people whose memories were next to 
marvellous in their extent and power, and we always 
shall have them so long as the fact shall remain that 
almost any person may, if he will, make his memory re- 
ceive and retain everything, or nearly everything, given 
to it. 

There is nothing easier than the development of a 
prodigious memory, and there is no faculty of the mind 
so Uttle worthy of such extreme cultivation. 

I once knew a lecturer who vaunted his memory and 
its performances, as the most marvellous thing with 
which he was acquainted. He told his audiences how 
he could not only repeat the Bible from beginning to 
end, but also give the chapter and verse of any portion 
if repeated in his presence. He could repeat, also, 
every conceivable detail of minute geographical fact, 
and do half a hundred other utterly useless things. 

The man was a fool ; but any person of good ordi- 
nary capacity can learn all that he learned, by giving 
as he did a lifetime to the task. The trouble is that the 
price is worth so much more than the commodity. 

But while all this is true, it is also true that a good, 
trustworthy memory is of very great service, and such 
a memory is well worth cultivating, within reason- 
able hmita. 



136 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 



HOW TO CULTIVATE THE MEMORY. 

If we wish to develop the muscles of any particular 
part of our bodies, we proceed to exercise those mus- 
cles moderately and regularly. It is only by exercise 
that we can hope to strengthen and improve them. 

With the faculties of the mind we do precisely the 
same thing. If we wish to reason closely and accu- 
rately, we must constantly exercise the reasoning facul- 
ties. If we wish to develop the mathematical powers of 
our minds, we must make daily use of mathematical 
exercises. Now, in this respect, the memory does not 
differ from the other intellectual faculties, except that 
its proper cultivation is rather easier than that of most 
others. 

To secure a good memory, therefore, it is only neces- 
sary that the student shall exercise it systematically, 
and we are all doing this every day in a greater or less 
degree. 

We must, however, avoid things which tend to im- 
pair the faculty, of which there are several worthy of 
mention. 

THINGS THAT IMPAIR THE MEMORY 

Inattention is the first and greatest cause of bad 
memories, and there was a deal of force in Lord By- 
ron's remark, that he had forgotten his Latin and 
Greek, " if a man may be said to have forgotten that 
which he never remembered." 

The way in which this habit of inattention is most 
commonly cultivated is in the careless reading of mat- 
ters of no importance, — newspaper paragraphs, items, 



HOW TO STUDY AND KEAD. 137 

detached thoughts, — anything which makes no impres- 
sion on the reader. The reading of such things gene- 
rates a habit of careless, inattentive reading which is 
often fatal to anything like a good memoiy. 

The same is. true of many other things, which will 
readily suggest themselves to the reader, whose rule it 
should be, if his memory be defective, never to do any- 
thing carelessly or inattentively — even though the 
thing done be in itself unworthy of a better doing. 

Many people find that while they remember some 
things perfectly, they are apt to forget just the ones they 
most want to remember. This arises in a large degree 
from the total absence of system which is so common in 
matters of memory. Even people who carefully classify 
and arrange their learning for all other purposes often 
omit wholly to do this for the memory, reading and 
studying laboriously, but leaving it altogether to chance 
what things acquired from the reading and the study 
shall be remembered, and what forgotten. That this 
is the common practice I think there can be no doubt, 
but it is certainly a singularly bad one. 

We all know that we can remember any given 
thing by " fixing it in the memory " as the phrase has 
it, — that is to say, we are all conscious that the memory 
may be greatly aided by the formation of a deliberate 
purpose to remember. Now it is clearly impossible that 
we shall make such a deliberate efifort for the retention 
of every fact and every principle we meet in our study, 
reading and observation, and the obvious conclusion is 
that we should make some classification of these facts 
and principles, so that we may select those which are 
most important and make an especial effort to retain 



J 38 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

fchem. A good classification for this purpose is the 
following : 

To he remembered. 

To he held ready for reference when wanted. 

Not wante further. 

Under the first head should come all those things 
which it is not worth while to remember in detail ; 
under the second, all those which we need only to 
remember generally, while we remember just where they 
may be found when wanted in detail ; under the third, 
of course, should come everything not worth a special 
effort of the memory, though many of them will be use- 
ful, if remembered without such special efibrt. 

A very fruitful source of failure in attempts to culti- 
vate the memory is the common mistake of confound- 
ing the husk with the grain, and learning to retain 
words rather than the ideas they express. There are 
many people who readily commit the words of a book 
to memory whenever they choose, but who after reading 
a volume find it very difficult to remember anything of 
its contents, e-8:cept the passages which have been me- 
morized absolutely. Such memories are provokingly 
worthless, and yet there are teachers in plenty who 
take pains to cultivate just such in their pupils. 

As a rule, the exact phraseology of a book is never 
worth remembering, either in whole or in considerable 
part, and ordinarily it is a waste of time to commit 
words to memory ; but the mental habit of the stu- 
dent is a very defective one if he fails to retain, in a 
general way, the ideas of every book read. 

In this, as in every other case, it is the thoughts and 
not the mere words — the kernels and not the shells — 
that are wanted, and in cultivating the memory, the 



HOW TO STUDY AN1> BEAD. 139 

student needs to look sharply to his processes, lest he 
cultivate it in the wrong direction. Let him remembei 
that while every faculty is developed by exercise, each 
is developed strongly in the particular direction in 
which the exercise points, and that it is therefore espe- 
cially requisite that he shall make the exercise of his 
aiemory a healthful one in kind as well as in amount. 

MEMORANDUM BOOKS, ETC. 

Memorandum books and other mechanical contri- 
vances are often useful and sometimes very necessary, 
but they are susceptible of abuse and capable of work- 
ing great injury to the memory they are meant to 
serve. When anything is to be remembered it is so 
convenient to jot down a note of it, that the plan is of- 
ten resorted to where the memory itself should bo 
trusted, and the habit of relying upon memoranda ra- 
ther than upon the memory itself, is often fatal to the 
proper development of that faculty. 

In giving a special caution thus against the abuse of 
memorandum books, I do so only because these are the 
commonest forms of artificial aids to memory, but what 
I say of these is equally true of every other device of 
the kind, and there are many of them in use. The 
rule should be the same in all cases, and it should be to 
use mechanical aids as little as possible, and to carefully 
observe their effects upon the memory, in order that 
they may not be allowed to sap it unawares. 

I have found it a good plan in my own case, to make 
memoranda aids to memory, rather than substitutes for 
it. Let me explain what I mean a little more fully. 
When I particularly wish to remember any isolated 
fact or other thing, I have no difficulty in doing so, by 



140 HOW TO EDUCATE 70UKSELP. 

simply determining that I will. But when 1 have to 
collect and remember a considerable number of things 
for future classification and use, (as, for instance, when 
collecting and arranging in my mind the materials for 
an essay or a book,) the unaided memory is not suffi- 
cient, and so a resort to memorandum books must be 
had. In these I jot down brief notes of the things I 
wish to use, making a rude classification of them as 
they occur to me from day to day. When this is done 
I lay the note-books away, and have no occasion what- 
ever to refer to the memoranda in using the material 
collected. The act of making a written note of any- 
thing serves to fix the thing in my memory, and ordin- 
arily I have no further use for the note after it is once 
made. 

Now, I do not put this forward as a plan for others* 
following. Perhaps to most of my readers my contri- 
vances of this sort would be worthless, while others 
which would work well with them would be of no ser- 
vice to me. In all such matters every man is and 
must be a law unto himself, and in giving my own plan 
to the reader I offer it only as a suggestion which may 
possibly point the way to some device of his own 
which will similarly serve his purpose. 

And just here a general caution is necessary against 
all attempts to adopt other people's plans in matters of 
this and Hke sorts. Nearly all young people try to 
follow some other person's lead in such matters, and in 
doing so they almost always fail because the processes 
of different minds are different. 

The only safe course is to let the working rules of 
other people serve as suggestions for processes adapted 
to your own wants and your own peculiarities. 



HOW TO STUDY AND BEAD. 141 

And whatever your processes of intellectual work 
may be, above everything else avoid making your rules 
or those of other people your masters. They are of 
service only while they serve, and the moment they 
assume control over the man, they become tyrants of a 
particularly objectionable sort. 



MECHANICAL MEMOEY. 

The student will almost certainly meet, sooner or 
later, with systems of mechanical memory, — elaborate 
contrivances by which to remember mechanically 
whatever one wishes to remember without any culti- 
vation of the faculty involved. These systems often 
contain a few good suggestions for use in the com- 
paratively limited number of cases in which it is possible 
and desirable to remember things mechanically ; but as 
systems they are worthless, always, of necessity, and to 
make any attempt to master one of them is to simply 
throw away time. They are worthless, in the first 
place, because of their very elaborateness, which makes 
it a more difficult task to master them than it would be 
to cultivate the memory itself to a far greater degree of 
precision than the systems can justly claim. In the 
second place, with all their seeming completeness, they 
usually fail just where they are needed most. Thirdly, 
it is generally more difficult to remember their de- 
vices for remembering things than it would be 
to remember the things themselves. But, after all, the 
chief difficulty with all these systems lies in the fact 
that they aim only at the recollection of words,- • 
they deal only with the husks of knowledge, and hence 
are inherently unworthy. 



142 HOW TO EDUCATE YOUKSELP. 



HOW MUCH TO READ. 

Students are often led to inquire how mucli tlioy 
should read within a month or a year, and answers of 
all sorts have been given to the question. 

In this as in other matters of a similar nature it ia 
impossible to give an estimate worth anything, or one 
which will be even approximately correct in a majority 
of cases. 

The general principle is, that we should not read 
more than we can digest ; but what would be a surfeit 
for one intellect is wholly insufficient for the ordinary 
food of another. Moreover, it is difficult for the reader 
to discover just how perfectly or imperfectly he has 
assimilated his intellectual food. 

Again, we may store the mind to-day with information 
to be digested long hence, and the fact that we have 
not yet made positive use of all that we have read is not 
proof that we have read too much. 

In point of fact, very few people read too much. 
Most of us read far too little, and the student need 
have very little apprehension on the score of an intel- 
lectual surfeit. The appetite is in this case a pretty 
safe guide, and in a very large majority of cases it may 
be freely indulged, as to amount, without any kind 
of danger, if only the reading be of a proper sort. 

WHEN TO READ. 

" Is it best to have fixed times at which to read ?*' 
usks a young man in a letter now lying before me. 
I answer Yes, and No. 
It is certainly best to have fixed times for reading if. 



HOW TO STUDY AND READ. 143 

without them, the reading is likely to be neglected to 
any considerable extent. It is best to have rules for 
your own guidance and control if you need them. Other- 
wise, certainly not. 

It is no small part of education to learn to govern 
one's self, but that self-government which accomplishes 
its purpose with the smallest amount of law is best. 
Government is necessary in every case, but the freer it 
can have its subject the better it will be for him. 

In all matters of this sort, therefore, the student 
should proceed as best he can, taking care first that his 
duties to himself in the matter of study and reading are 
fully and fairly performed, and secondly, that he remains 
as largely a free agent as is consistent with the accom- 
plishment of this end. He should make rules for him- 
self, and enforce them stx'ictly too, if rules are necessary 
to him, but if he can perform all his duties to himself 
without limitations of this kind, it will be far better not 
to hedge himself about with self-imposed and unneces- 
sary statutes. 

THE PEOPER TIME OF DAY FOR READING AND STUDY. 

As to what is the proper time of day for intellectual 
work of any kind, opinions differ largely among people 
who have strong prejudices or preferences in the matter 
— each thinking that his own favorite time is in every 
way the best. 

Probably habit has as much to do with it as anything 
else, in most cases ; and surrounding circumstances or- 
dinarily determine the question for all of us. 

Except that the health should be carefully guarded, 
the best possible rule, doubtless, is to do your reading 



144 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

and studying when you can do it best — in the morning 
— at night — or at whatever other time you find to be 
the best in your own case. 

It is important, however, to learn to read, to study 
and to write quite as well in the midst of interruptions 
as anywhere else. This anybody may learn to do with 
a little practice, and it is well worth the learning, even 
to people who have abundant and uninterrupted lei- 
sure. 

THOUGHT STUDY. 

During all our waking hours we are thinking of 
something. The moment we cease to think, we are 
asleep. 

This fact is well enough known to everybody, but its 
lesson is not always learned. We go on thinkings 
thinking, thinking, but how many of us make a system- 
atic effort to so control our thoughts as to make them of 
value to us ? 

When we walk in the streets, or ride in the cars, or 
do anything else which leaves our minds free, we are 
very apt to let them run on listlessly from one subject 
to another without care, and the result is that all our 
thinking — aU this wearing labor of our brains j)roduces 
nothing of any value to us, excejgt it be by accident. 

But this loss of intellectual labor is not the only ill 
result of allowing the thoughts to run riot among tri- 
vialities. We need to form habits of self-control. Such 
habits constitute at least half of culture, and their ex- 
istence is absolutely necessary to the accomplishment of 
anything like satisfactory educational results. We 
must control our intellectual operations, if we would 
train our intellects to satisfactory and systematic activ- 



HOW TO STUDY AND EEAD. 145 

ity, and there is nothing so fatal to such control as is 
this hal^it of loose, unguided, random thinking. 

The mind must have rest, of course, but the rest 
comes from change and from sleep — not from uncon- 
trolled and useless activity. For these reasons I 
strongly urge upon the student the habit of thought- 
study, as it is sometimes called. Let him always have 
some subject or other ready for consideration, and when 
nothing else offers, let him think about that, taking care 
that his thinking shall be systematic. Let him also 
cultivate the habit of self-control to such an extent that 
he may dismiss one subject and take up another at will. 
Then let him question everything about him for inform- 
ation and for culture. He will soon find that he can 
learn quite as much from men and things as from 
books. 

As a rule, it is better that we should observe the men 
and the things about us, and think of them, than that 
we abstract ourselves, and hence it is best to keep the 
chosen subject in reserve so long as there are other 
things at hand to furnish food for thought. This habit 
of observing our surroundings and thinking about 
them furnishes us the very best possible object-lessons, 
and it is tliis very habit which has resulted in some of 
the greatest of human achievements. A very simple 
thing indeed, to furnish food for thought, is a tea-kettle 
lid, but because James Watt, when he saw it, thought 
about it, we have now our steam-engine, and this one 
man's habit of object-study advanced the civilization oi 
the world incalculably. History is full of just such 
illustrations, and if we could always trace these things 
accurately, we should almost certainly find that every 
man who accomplishes anything of moment to himseli 



146 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

or to the world, owes his success to habits of this char-* 
acter. 

There are other mental habits, some to be cultivated 
und some to be shunned, and these for the most part 
will suggest themselves and sufficiently indicate their 
natures to the student who takes himself in hand for 
training. One or two of them, however, may be men- 
tioned 

It is a good plan to doubt and investigate. Doubt 
is the forerunner of wisdom, and there is no worse 
habit of mind than that which prompts the easy ac- 
ceptance of professed facts without proof. Authority 
is only good in so far as it is authority, and it should 
be accepted no farther. When I read in my chemistry 
that oxygen, hydrogen and carbon are elementary sub- 
tances, the authority of the eminent chemist who tells 
me this is sufficient to convince me that this is a cor- 
rect statement of the fact so far as the fact is under- 
stood by the chemists, but in holding myself ready to 
believe that all these substances may after all be com- 
pounds, and may ultimately be discovered to be such, 
I only do precisely what the chemists themselves do, 
and what they must of necessity do if they hope to 
make any new discoveries in their science. An unrea- 
soning and dogmatic skepticism is as bad as an unrea- 
soning credulity, but the habit of holding the mind 
open to conviction, and the habit of questioning every- 
thing for the sake of learning more about it are cer- 
tainly exceedingly valuable ones. 

Just here it is necessary to caution the reader 
against a bad habit into which a good many people 
fall, and that is the habit of accepting the statement of 
a puzzling fact and trying to account- for it beforct as- 



HOW TO STUDY AND READ. 147 

ceiiaining that the fact is as it is stated, or in any 
other way beginning at the wrong end of an investiga- 
tion. 

There is an old story of a puzzling question as to 
why a hving fish put into a vessel of water does not 
add to the weight of the whole. A good deal of 
speculation was had on the subject and many ingenious 
theories advanced by way of explanation. I believe it 
was Dr. Franklin who solved it, by first putting a liv- 
ing fish into a vessel of water to learn whether or not 
the assumption on which the question was based was a 
true one. 

The Patent Office at Washington is full of failures 
which have consumed men's Hves in the making, and 
in nine cases out of ten they are failures only because 
their inventors omitted to examine and verify the terms 
of the problems they tried to solve. 

Every sleight of hand juggler depends upon this habit 
of men's minds for success in his deceptions. He sets 
people to puzzling over seeming facts which are not 
facts at all, and they, having begun at the wrong end of 
their investigations, might continue them till doomsday 
without coming a step nearer to the truth of which 
they are in search. 

I have sometimes amused myself testing the question 
of how nearly universal this habit is. There is an ab- 
surdly simple trick with cards, which ought to deceive 
nobody, and yet it will deceive about eight people out oi 
every ten, even when bunglingly performed. It is to 
arrange a pack of cards with the three spot of any suite 
at the bottom, and then to give the person with whom 
you are experimenting the ace of that suite, bidding him 
slip it into the pack as it lies, face downwards, on the 



148 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

table. When he shall have done this, take up the pack, 
hold its face toward you, place your two thumbs over 
two of the three spots on the card next to you, blow, or 
say something, and exhibit the ace at the bottom of the 
pack. Every intelligent man must know that this card 
which he sees cannot possibly be the ace which he has 
just slipped into another place, and yet I have seen this 
simple trick performed over and over again in the pres- 
ence of intelligent men and women, every one of whom 
would set about finding out how it was done, not one of 
them ever thinking to inquire whether or not it really 
was done. 

Now, this is precisely what we all do every day to a 
greater or less extent, and as the habit greatly interferes 
with successful investigation in daily life, I have thought 
it worthy of notice in this place. 

THE APPOKTIONMENT OF TIME. 

A great deal of advice has been wasted on the subject 
of apportionment of time between study, work, sleep, 
etc. We all remember Dr. Franklin's dictum on the 
subject, and we all see various modifications of it in the 
newspapers now and then. 

Now if there were no other reason for saying that 
none of these prearranged schedules are worth anything, 
we should find amply sufficient justification for such a 
remark in the fact that hardly any two people agree aa 
to the proportions to be maintained. Dr. Franklin 
thought six hours sleep per day enough for a man ; but 
Mr. Beecher, who does quite as much work, probably, 
as Dr. Franklin did, sleeps, we are told, twelve hours 
out of twenty-four ordinarily, and never denies himself 
au additional " forty winks" when he wants them. 



HOW TO STUDY AND READ. 149 

The fact seems to be that in this, as in everything else, 
men differ materially from each other. Some require 
more sleep than others, just as some require more food. 
Some can stand many hours of continuous labor, while 
others must have frequent spells of resting. 

The only good rule in such a case is for each student 
to be a law unto himself. There is no extravagance so 
disastrous as the economy which denies to the student 
any needed sleep, whether the term allotted to perfect 
rest be four hours or twelve. Get all the sleep you 
need, — eat as much as you want, — and never continue 
your studies so long at a sitting as to leave yourself with 
a prostrated, worn-out feeling, as the result. 

Of course I do not advise unlimited self-indulgence. 
We must be masters of ourselves, both in body and 
mind, if we would accomplish anything in life. Reason 
must be our guide, and reason should always hold su- 
premacy over impulse. But if we wish to get the full- 
est measure of work out of an animal, we take care that 
he has rest enough and food enough to repair all waste. 
If we have machinery at work for us, we care for it si- 
milarly, in order that it may not wear out and cease to 
be of service. Now this is precisely what we must do 
with our bodies and minds. We must repau: their 
waste places, — we must keep them in working order, and 
give them rest enough and food enough to keep up their 
strength, else they will inevitably break down, more or 
less entirely. 

But in the matter of rest, a good deal of time maybe 
saved by a little care. Change is in itself Test, and it 
often serves the purpose better than an attempted ces- 
sation fi-om work would. When one is greatly interest- 
ed in the work in hand, it is very often impossible to 



150 HOW TO EDUCATE YOURSELF. 

dismiss it at once from the mind, and to simply quit 
the reading of a book is not always to rest from the 
reading. The subject is still in the mind, and the mind 
works at it quite as actively without the book as with 
it It is always best, where this is the case, if rest is 
needed, to take up some book of a wholly different char- 
acter for a while before ceasing to read entirely, so that 
the mind may be drawn away from the matter with 
which it is wearied. 

There are many times, too, when it is not necessary 
to quit work at all — times when a simple change of 
work gives ail the relief the mind needs, and a httie at- 
tention to this fact will make it a great economizer of 
time. 

HOW MANY STUDIES SHOULD BE CARRIED ON AT ONCE? 

There is considerable difference of opinion as to the 
number of studies that should be pursued at once. In 
the coheges the number usually prescribed is from three 
to five, and I am certainly not prepared to say that five 
are too many or three too few ; but I have known stu- 
dents to accomplish most excellent results by taking a 
single branch and pushing it through to the end of the 
course before taking up another. I have known others 
to carry on as many as nine separate studies at once, 
doing thoroughly weU in alL The result in the end 
was as good in the one case as in the other. 

Probably the safest plan is to accept the college cus- 
tom as the proper rule in the matter, and to regard 
these cases as successful exceptions. Certainly, there 
are objections to either extreme, and the more moder- 
ate three, four or five studies furnish enough of variety 
to enable the student to rest by changing fiom one to 



HOW TO STUDY AND BEAD. 151 

the otlier, while they do not weaken his attention by 
diTiding it too much. 

After all, the student cannot do better than attend to 
the teachings of the colleges in details of this charac- 
ter, and where their practice is at all uniform it will 
generally be found to represent the best plan of pro- 
oadure even for the student without a master. 



TSX EXD 



HINTS 

FOR 

HOME READING 

A SERIES OF CHAPTERS ON BOOKS AND THEIR USE 

BY 

CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER, M. F. SWEETSER, F. B. PERKINS, CYRUS 

H/.MLIN, HAMILTON W. MABIE, EDWARD EVERETT HALE, 

JOSEPH COOK, HENRY WARD BEECHER AND 

LYMAN ABBOTT 

Edited with an Introduction by 
LYMAN ABBOTT 

WITH WHICH IS INCLUDED A NEW AND REVISED EDITION OF 

SUGGESTIONS FOR LIBRARIES 

BY GEORGE PALMER PUTNAM 

TOGBTHriR WITH PRICED LISTS OF SUGGESTED SELECTIONS OF 500, I,000 AND 2 OOO VOL'JMES 
OF THE MOST DESIRABLE AND IMPORTANT BOOKS 



NEW YOKK 

G. P. PTJTl^AM'S SOKS 

27 AND 29 West 23d Street 



Copyright. 
'Ar G. P. PUTNAMS SONS. 



CONTENTS. 



Introduction. 

I. What the People Read, by M. F. Sweetser. 

II. Why Young People Read Trash, by Charles Dudley . 
Warner. ...... 



III. What to Read, by Fred. B. Perkins. 

IV. Plans of Reading, by Fred. B. Perkins, 
V. Plans of Reading, by Cyrus Hamlin. 

VI. Plans of Reading, by //. W. Beecher. 

VII. The Art of Reading, by Hamilton W. Mabie. 

VIII. The Choice of Books, by Edward Everett Hale. 

IX. How TO Make Dull Boys Read, by Joseph Cook. 

X. How to Preserve the Results of Reading, by 



Joseph Cook. 



XI. Hints for People that do not Read, by Lyman 

Abbott. . . ... 



XII. A Symposium, by Many Contributors. . 

Suggestions for Household Libraries, by George Palmer 
Putnam. . . ...... 



First List — 500 volumes of the most essential books. 

Second List — 500 volumes of t*he next most desirable. 

Third List — 1,000 volumes supplementing previous selections, 

A Collection of 50 Volumes suggested as the nucleus of a Library, 



PAGE 

I 



15 
23 
31 
41 
48 

57 
62 



7S 

85 
93 

lOQ 
117 
123 
130 



INTRODUCTION. 

THE home ought no more to be without a library than 
without a dining room and kitchen. If you have but 
one room, and it is lighted by the great wood fire in the flam- 
ing fireplace, as Abraham Lincoln's was, do as Abraham Lin- 
coln did : pick out one corner of your fireplace for a library, 
and use it. Every man ought to provide for the brain as well 
as for the stomach. 

This does not require capital ; there are now cheap editions 
of the best books ; it only requires time and forecast. We 
write in a private library, and a fairly good one for working 
purposes, of three thousand and odd volumes ; we began it 
twenty years ago, on a salary of $i,ooo a year, with five books 
— a commentary in four volumes and a dictionary. The best 
libraries are not made ; they grow. 

In forming a library, if your means are small, do not buy 
what you can beg or borrow. Depend, as Joseph Cook does, 



2 INTRODUCTION. 

as many of the greatest authors have done, On public libraries 
— the District Library, the Lyceum, the Book Club, the Circu- 
lating Library — or on more fortunate friends. Buy only what 
you cannot borrow. 

At first buy only books that you want immediately to read. 
Do not be deluded imto buying books because they are classics, 
or cheap, or that you may get rid of an agent. One book read 
is worth a dozen books looked at. No book is possessed till it 
is read. 

Reference books constitute an exception, and an important 
exception, to this rule. These are the foundations of a good 
library. The essential reference books are Webster's Diction- 
ary — for the family use Webster is incomparably the best — 
a good atlas and a cyclopaedia. Any school atlas will do 
(and a second-hand one can be had for almost nothing), 
though, if you are able to purchase it, a good atlas is much 
better ;. and best of all is a wise selection of atlases. There 
is no best cyclopaedia ; your choice must depend upon your 
resources, pecuniary and mental. 

In purchasing books, exercise a choice in editions. The 
lowest priced books are not always the cheapest. Buy books 
of transient interest or minor importance — all novels, for ex- 
ample, and current books of travel — in cheap forms. ♦On the 
other hand, histories, classics of all sorts, and generally all 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

permanent books, should be bought in good binding and good 
type. It takes well-seasoned lumber to make a good family 
library. 

Have a place for your library. Respectable hanging-shelves 
can be bought in our cities and towns for a dollar and up- 
ward. A dollar spent in pine lumber, and a little mechanical 
skill, will make a larger and better one. Varnished pine is 
handsome enough for any parlor. A place for books will cry 
to be filled till it gets its prayer answered. Book-shelves 
preserve books. One shelf of books gathered together is a 
better library than twice the number scattered from attic to 
cellar. 

Finally, a taste for reading is an essential pre-requisite to a 
useful library. A well is of no use if you never draw water 
from it. At the same time a good library in the household, 
accessible to all, from baby to grandmother, is one of the best 
influences with which to develop a taste for reading. Have no 
books so fine that they cannot be used. Have^ few or none 
under lock and key. Books were made for readers, not readers 
for books. 

These articles, contributed by different writers, out of their 
own wide observation and life experience, were originally 
sought for the columns of The Christian Unioji^ in the hope 
that they would conduce to the development of family libraries 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

in many homes. They are now gathered into one volume, 
with such modifications in form as were necessary to make a 
homogeneous volume, with the belief that in this permanent 
form they will continue to serve this mission yet more efficiently. 

L. A. 

22 Washington Square, N. Y, 



HINTS FOR HOME READING. 



I. 

WHAT THE PEOPLE READ. 
By M. F. Sweetser. 

CHARLES LAMB once said, in his quaint and delightful 
way, that he wished to ask a " grace before reading " 
more than a *' grace before dinner." There never was a peo- 
ple so addicted to reading as our own, even amid the electric 
rush of western life, and ever fresh material is being prepared 
for their edification and amusement at the rate of seventy new 
books per day, besides uncounted millions of papers and maga- 
zines. Is this literary feast of such a character that we may 
ask a blessing upon it, or should we rather recite the Black 
Paternoster before partaking thereof ? 

" Read not the Times ; read the Eternities," cried Thoreau, 
from his academic grove by Walden Pond. But it is essential 
that the citizen of a republic should read the Times also, and 
there is no duty which the average American discharges more 



6 M. F. SWEETSER. 

faithfully and zestfully. Every morning and evening millions 
of newspapers are flung off, hot from the roaring presses, to be 
eagerly perused in cars, shops and offices by all men who can 
read. Those papers are in chief demand which are alive and 
spicy, howbeit, unfortunately, these traits are often quite sep- 
arable from sagacity and purity, and the Macaulay order of 
journalism is incompatible with paragraphing. When to the 
city dailies we add the rural weeklies, the story papers, the 
agricultural and specialist organs, and the great host of religi- 
ous papers, the wonder rises how America can find time to 
attend to such a mass of ephemeral prints, and it seems that 
the larger part of our reading must be done outside of books." 
And so extensive is the purview of the modern newspaper, so 
various are the subjects of which it treats, and so highly trained 
(in many cases) are the editors, that the systematic reader 
thereof may readily become possessed of a fund of broad and 
available knowledge. Many men of high position, with great 
libraries in their houses, read almost nothing but newspapers, 
and from this source alone obtain copious resources for con- 
versation on many subjects, so that they often appear more in- 
telligent than the professional scholar. The dark side of the 
picture is found in the accounts of ghastly and demoraliz- 
ing events whose details are given with such zest in some 
of the papers ; and in the rollicking levity with which certain 



WHAT THE PEOPLE READ. 7 

of the later humorists treat the most sacred and serious 
subjects. 

The magazines occupy a midway position between the news- 
papers and books, and contain literature which in many cases 
is not ephemeral. Their circulation is very large, and half-a- 
dozen have an aggregate sale of nearly half a million copies 
per month ; while there are scores of others with large lists of 
subscribers. Profit, pleasure and instruction may be gained 
in reading the chief illustrated magazines, as well as the " At- 
lantic Monthly " and the Reviews ; but most of the smaller 
periodicals are weak, meagre and platitudinous to the last 
degree. 

The paramount position which fiction holds in the estimation 
of our reading public is definitely attested by a recent tabula- 
tion of the reports of more than a score of public libraries, 
which showed that sixty-eight per cent., or a little more than 
two-thirds of the books taken out, were novels. The great 
Public Library of Boston, with its 370,000 volumes, also re- 
ports that fully two-thirds of its issues are of this class, al- 
though the consoling statement is added that the ratio is much 
less than a few years ago, before the attractive catalogues of 
history, biography and travel were published. Various expedi- 
ents have been suggested, with a view to reducing this great 
preponderance of light reading, but the evil is one which it is 



8 M. F. SWEETSER. 

difficult to ameliorate, at least by any system of library legisla- 
tion. Another examination of the issues of the Boston Public 
Library shows that the ratio of the standard historical and 
social-life stories taken out, is to the merely sensational and 
visionary as thirteen to forty, or, in other words, that three- 
fourths of the novel-reading is given to the lowest attainable 
class of literature. Thus more than half of the volumes circu- 
lated by this great library, with all its safeguards and in one of 
the most enlightened communities of America, are vapid even 
if not vicious, and unimproving, if not absolutely harmful. 
There are advocates of \.h.Q panem et circenses theory of govern- 
ment who find even this state of affairs encouraging, believing 
that it is a gain to the body politic to have the lower classes 
devoting that time to novel-reading which might otherwise be 
employed in more dangerous ways. The principle may be 
good under certain circumstances but the substitute is certainly 
a perilous one. 

The Buckles and Leckys of the twentieth century may dem- 
onstrate the directness of the connection between the rise and 
development of the tramp-scourge and the contemporaneous 
flooding of the Republic with cheap and inflammatory litera- 
ture, in whose pages honest industry is contemned and heroism 
is found only in a wild and roving life and an eager readiness 
to resort to physical violence. For years unscrupulous publish- 



WHAT THE PEOPLE READ. 9 

ers have been sowing dragons' teeth in the precious soil made 
fallow by the war epoch, and now the appalling harvest is 
springing up on every side. 

The love of fictitious narrative is so strong and confirmed a 
trait of human character that great efforts should be made to 
render it in some way beneficial to society and the individual, 
or at least far different in its results from what it now threat- 
ens. Charles Reade prepared himself for his life-work by 
reading a novel a day for several years ; and now, out of the 
ripeness of his experience, proclaims that the only worthy end 
of fiction is to correct national and social abuses. Sir John 
Herschel recorded his conviction that the novel is ** one of the 
most powerful engines of civilization ever invented." Canon 
Farrar recommends clergymen to read good novels in their 
leisure hours ; and a famous Oxford lecturer has advised all 
students in holy orders to peruse romances carefully, to en- 
large their ideas and to give them social graces. 

Anthony Trollope says that the novel has well-nigh suc- 
ceeded to the sermon as a former of character, and Dr. Draper 
claims that the printing-press has superseded the pulpit. If 
this is quite true (and we fear that it is not altogether un- 
true) the world is in a bad way, and it behooves our illuminati 
to cease their interminable dissensions about ecclesiastical 
millinery and abstract theories and to take counsel as to the 



lO M. F. SWEETSER. 



remedy. If the high duties and principles of a true and noble 
life can no longer be as efficiently inculcated by essays and 
addresses as by extended parables and under disguise of ro- 
mance, the new methods must be deeply studied and lovingly 
wrought out. The seeds which Richardson planted in Eng- 
land and Charles Brockden Brown in America, have developed 
into trees which overshadow the Anglo-Saxon race^ and it can- 
not yet be seen whether their fruits shall be full of healing or 
of spiritual death. The unsullied purity and splendor of 
Scott are counteracted by the grossness of Fielding ; the sin- 
scourging invectives of Thackeray by the hot poison of Lau- 
rence ; the saintly purity of Macdonald by the inflamed sug- 
gestions of Ouida. Mr. Carker and Becky Sharp are as well 
known as Leatherstocking and Romola ; and Claude Duval 
and Jack Shepard have a wider constituency than Adam Bede. 
Thackeray has somewhere said that all people with healthy 
literary appetites love novels, but the meaning of the objective 
word has been sadly perverted even since his day. 

The most serious attack of unbeneficial literature is made 
upon the youth of the country, and its avenue of advance is 
through the flash newspaper and the low grade of cheap novel. 
The number of the former is legion, and their general uniform 
is illustrated by sensational head-lines and tawdry wood- 
cuts. No fewer than twenty-five of these papers are published 



WHAT THE PEOPLE READ. II 

in New York alone, and it is estimated that they have three 
million readers every week. Many others are printed in other 
cities and count their. added millions of readers. Besides the 
ordinary channels of the mails they are scattered broadcast 
through the country by the news companies, and their coarse 
illustrations are seen on every news-stand and in the stationery 
shops of the remotest hamlets, amid the pastoral innocence of 
the hill-country and the prairies. There is no other agency 
which is so effectually leavening the nation, for the flash paper 
penetrates to solitudes where even the circuit-rider never ap- 
pears, and far beyond the blue-and-white signs of the tele- 
graph companies. 

A recent reviewer, after examining great numbers of these 
multiplying productions of a degraded press, writes that : 
" Nothing good can be said of them. They must be charac- 
terized as bad, worse, worst." The titles of the stories are vi- 
ciously sensational and the situations are of the most impossible 
character, with high spice of hair-breadth adventure, prurient 
description and scandalous suggestion. Picturesqueness, deli- 
cacy, purity are all alien to these blood-curdling fictions, and 
the normal and healthy conditions of life are not considered. 
The heroes are those most regardless of long-settled social and 
natural laws, and their most notable achievements are triumph- 
ant revolts against the very nature of things. Their arma- 



12 M. F. SWEETSER. 

ment is complete and efficient, their combative skill is marvel- 
ous, and their language and habits are those of the slums. 
Occasionally a trite moralism or a plagiarized description is 
introduced as a foil, or as a contrast by which to heighten the 
color of the narrative, but the next chapter brings back the 
rattle of the frontier revolvers, the howls of the South Sea 
pirates and the vulgar-genteel dialogues of the buckram lords 
and ladies. And the reader ever draws a lengthening chain, 
for no sooner is Chincapin Dick brought to his reward in the 
last chapter of one story than Deadwood Jim enters the most 
interesting part of his brutal career in the same paper, and 
Calamity Jane appears on the scene in the first chapters of 
another serial. 

And what is the result of all this mighty flood of unsavory 
literature ? Evil, and evil, and evil again. The tranquil and 
industrious home life, with its sacred peace and unceasing 
blessings, is held up to scorn, and the ideal career is one of 
wild adventure and lawless force, ending in the acquisition of 
dazzling honors and delights. Appetites depraved by heredity 
are pampered and glutted in their unnatural tastes and during 
the most tender formative years, and the broad road to perdi- 
tion is opened before the myriads of little feet. The unevent- 
ful life of school and shop, the working days and monotonous 
evenings, are set over against the dashing deeds and passion- 
ate joys of the putative heroes of the printed page, and appear 



WHAT THE PEOPLE READ. I3 

all the more dull and profitless by the comparison. Still worse 
and more pernicious lessons are taught to mere children, who 
become wise beyond their years, and are prepared for deadly 
dangers. The school-boy swaggers about his home, and talks 
the Bowery slang, and apes the inflections of the hoodlum, and 
then with his comrades endeavors to outrival the extraordinary 
ruffians who are set up as the heroes of his hidden reading. 
The instructors in some of our public schools keep a watch on 
the reading of their pupils, and report that the most unruly 
and rebellious boys are those who are addicted to the study of 
these fictions. 

Many of the women of America find their light mental ex- 
hilaration in a similar manner in the pages of certain maga- 
zines professedly devoted to their amusement, and in the long 
lines of novels written by experts of the Southworth school. 
There is also a group of weekly papers working on the same 
line, and constantly purveying a light, frothy and turgid litera- 
ture to its readers. This class of fiction is by far less danger- 
ous than the stronger and more fiery forms which are placed 
before the sterner sex ; and yet the imaginary conditions 6f 
life therein depicted and suppositious possibilities set forth, un- 
doubtedly stimulate thoughts which result in terrible revolts 
against the laws of social safety. 

Their is another class of publications, issued secretly from 
liidden press, whose pages are saturated with the most ter- 



14 M. F. SWEETSER. 

rible poison, and breathe out a fatal spiritaal malaria wherever 
they fall. Therein the foulest morasses of sensualism are por- 
trayed in the plainest language, appreciatively, skillfully and 
even enthusiastically, and the art of Hades is called in to il- 
lustrate the reeking pages. Carefully-sealed circulars are sent 
out broadcast, mainly to young people, of both sexes, giving 
lists of these books and their prices, and inviting orders. 
College and academy catalogues are often used as mediums for 
obtaining addresses, and the curiosity of the students is relied 
upon as a powerful assistance to the traffickers. The books 
are gloated over in secret, and are handed on from one youth to 
another, until whole neighborhoods are deeply infected with 
the virulent poison, and the gravest consequences ensue. If 
in the mysterious future beyond the tomb there is a torture 
more horrible and pitiless than any other, it must be reserved 
for tlie men who live by this infernal trade, and who lure inno- 
cent souls into the downward paths of perdition for the sake 
of a few dollars of gain. If the State may adjudge the pen- 
alty of death for those who slay the body, how much more 
should it exterminate, as vipers or scorpions, those who brutal- 
ize the youth and flower of the community, and thus prepare 
unnumbered woes for society. Of late years, the Society for 
the Suppression of Vice has dealt many vigorous and valiant 
blows at this hydra-headed monster, and has gained several 
important successes. 



11. 

WHY YOUNG PEOPLE READ TRASH. 
By Charles Dudley Warner. 

IT seems to be assumed, in all the discussions on Books 
and Reading, that reading is, like exercise in the open 
air, a good thing in itself ; that there is some virtue in the 
mere act of reading without reference to the thing read. It is 
true that the art of reading is a necessity in our modern life ; 
a person is at a great disadvantage without it ; but I fancy- 
that its value in the making of character, which is the great 
object of life, is a little over-estimated. Certainly, when a 
person has only learned how to read and not what to read, he 
is in great peril. 

Reading as a means of cultivation, or as a pastime, we must 
remember, is altogether a modern habit, and it only prevails as 
a general habit in a few countries. The great majority of 
mankind get along without books and without newspapers, and 

15 



l6 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. 

still exhibit most of the essential virtues and all the vices of 
reading communities. I knew a New England man who by 
diligence and shrewdness had amassed a good fortune and 
wore black broadcloth clothes every day ; he understood men 
and human nature, and by his ability he obtained control of 
all the political movements of his region, and he used his 
influence exactly as the reading politicians used theirs ; and 
yet he could not read a word, and could write nothing except 
his name — he did not write that elegantly, but it had a good 
appearance on a check. He was conspicuous in the com- 
munity where he lived by reason of his literary deficiency, but 
he would not have been in ancient Greece nor in modern 
Italy. His education was that of the majority of successful 
men in past ages, and even in not remote times, when the 
clerkly accomplishments of reading and writing were con- 
sidered effeminate. Most of our representatives at Washing- 
ton can read — though some of them not to much purpose — and 
write, though they cannot all read their own writing, but many 
of them retain that old prejudice, not to say contempt, in 
regard to the lettered class which men of action have always 
felt. The first Napoleon was illiterate ; he was an insatiable 
devourer of facts and ideas — that is, such as he could use for 
himself — and he did not value the medmm through which he 
got them ; he never resorted to books. He used the news- 



WHY YOUNG PEOPLE READ TRASH. I7 

papers, it is true, but exactly as he would use a squad of 
soldiers, or a battery, or a flag of defiance or of truce ; he used 
them, as they have been used occasionally since his day, as a 
medium to lie in. But there was one good thing about Na- 
poleon : he had a wholesome fear of literature and literary 
people ; he was able to apprehend their ability to diffuse ideas 
which were hostile to his method of governing. Some of our 
public men resemble him in that. 

I think the extent of the habit of reading is much over- 
estimated even in reading countries. There is a large reading 
class in Germany, in China, in England, in America, in Ice- 
land, and in the cities of France ; outside of these countries 
and a few colonies reading is not indulged in. Of all these 
countries the United States is the land in which the habit of 
reading is most prevalent ; and yet the most striking fact 
about our population is that so few of them read when most 
of them know how — I mean how to read to themselves, for so 
rare is the accomplishment of reading out aloud that we have 
to pay money to hear such performers on our language ; they 
are rarer than fair piano players. Nearly everybody takes a 
daily snatch at the newspaper, at the summary of news or the 
telegraph columns, and the base-ball record, and occasionally 
persons follow for days the columns devoted to some singular 
accident or curious murder — even women have acquired the 



1 8 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. 

art of deftly skimming the cream off the morning journal — 
but comparatively few of the entire population, even the 
educated, read books. Unless a book by some good luck 
becomes the fashion and is recommended in conversation, few 
see it ; the number of people who originally seek out the 
readable book from their habit of craving it is very small. 
When a story becomes the fashion everybody reads it ; but 
who is everybody ? Why, a new novel is to have a " run " if 
ten thousand copies of it are published — ten thousand copies 
for forty millions of people. And there are books that 
" everybody " has read, and all the newspapers talk of, which 
have not got beyond the third or fourth thousand. The late 
Samuel Bowles once told me his experience. He had written 
his capital book on the Far West at the time of the Pacific 
railway excitement, when millions of people were eager for the 
information his book contained. Never did book seem to be 
in greater demand ; it was sold in England as well as in 
America, and all the newspapers of both countries quoted 
from it and commented on it. Mr. Bowles said that he never 
met a person who had not read it — or who did not say he had 
read it, I forget which. And yet, he asked, how many copies 
do you suppose satisfied this enormous demand of everybody ? 
Fifteen thousand filled the market. 

We boast about the circulation of our newspapers. The 



WHY YOUNG PEOPLE READ TRASH. I9 

best of them are daily marvels of news, of information, of 
miscellaneous reading, of entertainment of all sorts. They are 
the cheapest things manufactured in modern days. Consider- 
ing the capital in brains, industry and money put into every 
number, they are at their price the wonder of our civilization. 
And yet the most wonderful thing about them to me is the 
smallness of their circulation compared to the population. 
Take such a centre as New York, with a compact population 
of nearly two millions, and radiating lines of quick distribution 
that enable the newspapers within a few hours to reach 
millions more, and set against this the actual circulation of the 
three or four commanding journals. It is a mere bagatelle. 

Still there are many newspapers, and a large proportion of 
the population sees one every day — that is, of the city popu- 
lation ; but the number of people who master the contents of a 
daily newspaper is not large. Readers pick out of them the 
items of business or amusement or politics that interiest them. 
And it is hardly fair to credit our people with the habit of 
reading because they glance at the daily newspapers, or because 
in the country they are in the habit of spreading the excellent 
weeklies over their faces to keep the flies from disturbing their 
Sunday nap. I believe that the majority of business men read 
a book very rarely ; the majority of young men in business and 
in society I fancy read little — they do not give their evenings 



20 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. 

to reading, and are not apt to take up a book unless it becomes 
the talk of society. People who spend a great deal of money on 
dress, on dinners, on amusement, would think it extravagant to 
buy a book, and if one is commended to them they will wait till 
they can borrow it or get it from the library. They do not 
hesitate two minutes about an ordinary two dollar dinner, but 
they will wait months to borrow a fifty cent book. 

Those who have to deal with the education of the young 
get revealing glimpses into the state of culture in the house- 
holds of our highly intelligent country. A professor in one of 
our leading colleges told me not long ago that a freshman came 
to him, after he had been recommending certain books in the 
literature class, and said he had never read s. book in his life, 
This was literally true ; except his text books he had never 
read a book ; he had passed a fair examination, but of reading 
he knew no more than a Kaffir. Another professor in another 
college, also one of the highest in the country (both of these 
are Eastern colleges, in the centre of the best culture in 
America), told me more recently that a sophomore who stood 
well in his class came to ask him where he obtained certain 
facts which he referred to in the class-room. It came out 
that the young man never had read a book, didn't know what 
the sensation was, or how to set about it, and had not the 
faintest conception of literature. He had no notion of the 



WHY YOUNG PEOPLE READ TRASH. 21 

pleasure or profit to be got from reading ; the world of books 
was absolutely beyond his imagination, and he could not 
conceive what people found in it. The professor at length 
induced him to read one of Scott's novels, but the boy found 
it a very tedious and uninteresting occupation. These two 
instances are extreme, but only in a degree ; a taste for liter- 
ature is not common, and ignorance of it is common even 
among college undergraduates. 

And we might expect this to be the case where we see so 
few households in which reading is a habit. Here in New 
England there are books which have gradually accumulated in 
almost every house. Not seldom you will find a large number 
of books, standard works, books of the best literature ; but in 
some of these houses which have book-shelves lined with the 
riches of all ages the questions you will most often hear are, 
*'What shall I read?" "What is there to read?" Those 
who ask these questions are readers after a sort ; they are 
probably the people who read the seventy per cent, of the 
books drawn from the circulating libraries, this seventy per 
cent, being the new novels. 

Now, what I am coming at in this rambling paper is not 
proof that reading is a good thing, though much might be said 
in favor of the habit, and many people would not exchange 
it for all Mr. Vanderbilt's wealth. I am seeking one of the 



22 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. 

reasons why the young who read at all read nothing but trash, 
as they are said to do. It is because their parents, or older 
persons about them, either have not the habit of reading or 
they alsp read trash. In such households as I have described, 
where the elders go about declaring that there is nothing to 
read, the children catch the tone and think there is nothing to 
read — that is, nothing except the latest story-book or the picture- 
paper. In the lower strata of society, where the mother has 
neither time nor inclination to read anything, and the father 
pores over the " Police Gazette," it is quite natural that his son 
should take the " Boy's Own " story paper about ruffians and 
burglars. The short of it is that the children in this country 
follow their elders. And I suspect that the vast majority of 
people care little for reading except as it furnishes them a smat- 
tering of news or gives them a temporary excitement. 



ni. 

WHAT TO READ. 
By Fred. B. Perkins. 

AS many persons, so many opinions," says the Latin 
proverb. Can there be a " Ten Comandments " for 
reading whose obvious universal simplicity and wisdom prove 
them by the mere statement ? Not yet, if at all. At present 
the question, " What shall we read ? " is almost as universal as the 
question, " What did the Sirens sing ? " The utmost that can 
well be attempted is to set down a few hints about the present 
state of things in the matter of reading — hints, if possible, not 
entirely useless to the scholar and, if possible, of some service 
to the average intelligent youth. 

// is out of the question to read everything. There are some 
eight thousand newspapers and periodicals in the United States 
and Canada alone, from daily to quarterly, and almost every 
one of them has some good original writing in it. Take the 

23 



24 FRED. B. PERKINS, 

newspapers and periodicals of England and English America 
only, and their issues (not number of copies, but number of 
issues) are about 620,000 a year ; all different, and a great 
many very valuable. To read these, at say 300 working days 
a year of ten hours each, you would have to turn off (roughly 
counting) 2,066 a day, or 207 an hour, or about three and a 
half a minute ; about one in every eighteen seconds. Try, 
now, what you can do in eighteen seconds with a Saturday's 
Daily Tribune^ triple sheet ; or with one number of The Chris- 
tian Union ; or with this single short paper. Why, it would be 
a smart clerk who could unfold and lay out and cut the 
periodicals as fast as that, ready for you to read. And this 
without one book. The new books appear at say 25,000 
volumes annually in Christendom, being about eight and a 
half volumes per hour for your ten hour day's work. We can't 
read everything. 

Take another illustration of the extent of this " great and 
terrible wilderness." There have been printed cyclopedias 
almost ever since there was any printing. Now, in the scholas- 
tic period, the whole body of attainable learning was con- 
sidered to lie within two courses of study, one of three 
branches, the other of four, often called the triviiim and the 
quadrivium^ and together composing " the seven liberal arts ;" 
and there was an old Latin phrase that was used to describe a 



WHAT TO READ. 25 

complete scholar : " Qui tria, qui septem^ qui omne scibile novit ;" 
a man who knows the three, who knows the seven — in short, 
who knows all that is to be known. Now, the names of these 
two groups of studies will show how small was the range of 
mediaeval learning. The irivium^ " the three," were all con- 
cerned about language ; viz., grammar, logic and rhetoric. 
The quadriviupi, ''the four," were music, arithmetic, geometry 
and astronomy. This was the whole of the "seven liberal 
arts ;" thQ forms of thought, two departments of mathematics, 
one accomplishment, and the study of the heavens without the 
telescope. A cyclopedia of that day can be found in some 
large library or bibliographer's collection. It was one small 
quarto volume, not much larger than the school editions of 
Webster's Dictionary ; and it would be quite within practi- 
cability to know it all by heart, as people have known the 
Bible. But look at the current edition of the Encyclopaedia 
Britannica in twenty-two volumes, each of them at least five 
times as large as the whole Middle Age cyclopaedia, and the 
whole, therefore, a hundred and ten times as large. Vain the 
attempt to commit that to memory. But, further, we have one 
separate cyclopaedia of one branch of knowledge, " Ziems- 
sen's Encyclopaedia of Medical Science," in seventeen volumes 
about as large as those of the Encyclopaedia Britannica ; others 
of mechanical science almost as extensive. Again I say, we 



26 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

can't read everything ! Indeed, the very definition of a uni- 
versal scholar has perforce changed. It is no longer a man who 
knows everything, but only a man who knows how to look for 
everything ; and even such scholars are not to be found grow- 
ing on every bush. 

How, then, to select ? What shall we read ? Abundance of 
codes are to be found. One is about as good as another. 
Take, and follow, the first one you come across, only remem- 
bering to do so no longer than you can enjoy it. Each is 
commonly either a record of what the codifier has found to 
suit his individual character, or what he has speculated out, or 
has received, as necessarily best for all characters. Mr. Em- 
erson's three rules, which I have had occasion to criticise 
in another place, seem to be of the former class. They 
are : 

1. Never read any book that is not a year old. 

2. Never read any but famed books. 

3. Never read any books but what you like. 

They are suggestions " How not to do it," of course ; cau- 
tions rather than directions ; but I repeat that if you add to 
each the clause "unless you like," they will do very well. 

As to answering my own question, "What to read," it cannot 
be done in full in less than a volume. Within the scope of 
this article it will be best not to attempt giving lists of books, 



WHAT TO READ. 27 

analyses and estimates, but to suggest something to assist read- 
ers in making their own selections. 

Read the great books, if you can (it is not every one who can 
do it the first time he tries) ; the great poets, historians, phil- 
osophers, even theologians. Anyone who has well read the 
masterpieces (to read well a masterpiece is very nearly to de- 
liberately study it) has the principal material for a well fur- 
nished mind. The Bible ; Homer, Virgil, Dante, Shakes- 
peare, Milton, Goethe, Burns, Wordsworth, Hugo ; ^schylus, 
Sophocles, Aristophanes, Moliere ; Herodotus, Thucydides, 
Livy, Sallust, C^sar, Tacitus, Plutarch, Gibbon, Hallam ; Plato, 
Aristotle, Bacon, Locke, Kant, Hamilton, Spencer — the 
" epoch-making " names as the Germans well call them ; one 
who knows even moderately well the chief works of those men is 
already liberally educated — and boys and girls can enjoy them 
all, unless, perhaps, it be the final list of the philosophers. To 
understand such works as these is to understand human life 
and history in a broad, comprehensive way, as one understands 
the main slopes and great river-valleys of a country by mount- 
ing its highest peaks and looking abroad from them. 

Read periodicals. Not idly and wastefully, but so as to keep 
up with the truth of the present as well as to learn the truth of 
the past. More and more, wise and good thoughts are pub- 
lished in these temporary forms. Anyone who has access to a 



2 8 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

good number of them, and can acquire some faculty of selec- 
tion, may choose say one article each out of six — or twenty — - 
magazines and papers, that will keep him abreast of the prog- 
ress of the age. A splendid feeling it is ; like the swimmer's 
delight of riding forward on great waves in the sea. You see all 
the kingdoms of the world ; and General Butler — who hates the 
newspapers — would say, shown them by the devil too. But it 
is not so. Much of the kindest and wisest thought of the day 
brightens newspaper columns and magazine pages. The im- 
portant thing is to avoid being limited to one journal ; to see 
as many as possible, and to learn to choose what is valuable 
and to skip the rest. 

Amusing reading ; use with moderation. Some persons dis' 
like it as a child does rhubarb and magnesia. I knew an ex- 
ceptionally intelligent editor, a lively, genial man, who always 
showed unfeigned distaste at fiction and the reading of it. 
Probably a book of travels, a biography, a natural history^ 
would have been amusing to him. I know a lady of much cul- 
ture, unusual excellence of character and high mental qualities, 
who finds Pickwick a monotonously stupid book. Such a con- 
dition of mind I cannot enter into. Select, therefore, iw 
amusement something that amuses you : a comic almanac if il 
amuses you ; and from that upward to the thoughts of Joubert 
or Pascal or Antoninus. But take this amusement as you 



WHAT TO READ. 29 

would take dancing, or fishing, or a nap in your chair : when 
you really properly may. At other times refrain from it. In 
work-time, work ; in rest-time, rest. 

History is the backbone^ natural science excepted. Unless his- 
torically, upon the basis of the utmost possible historical 
knowledge, there can be no thorough acquaintance with theol- 
ogy, philosophy, political economy, social conditions and af- 
fairs — in short, with all human life and progress and activity 
on earth ; though of course the routine drudgery of business 
and investigation in physics do not require it. Let the general 
rule, therefore, be to have all your reading and all your think- 
ing upon the best and fullest body of historical knowledge 
that you can acquire. Read, to begin with, one good summary 
of universal history, and commit to memory a short chronology, 
at the rate of one or two facts and dates to a century ; read 
one good history of your own country (Hildreth's is the best 
one), and one of your own State and town, if such there be ; 
then a good history of England, then one of France, one of 
Germany, and so on, filling out the series as far as circumstan- 
ces permit. 

Employ the cooperative methods. Make full use of any library 
within reach, and join a book club if you can. 

What has thus been said may be summed up in a few 
v/ords : 



30 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

The utmost possible reading is a very little out of an enor- 
mous mass. 

Codes of rules for reading may be tried but must not be re- 
lied on. 

The famous books are, above all, indispensable. 

Judicious use of a selection of periodicals is highly desir- 
able. 

Mere amusement in reading should be only cautiously in- 
dulged. 

Historical methods are the only sound ones in most lines of 
reading. 

The cooperative methods should be used. 



IV. 

PLANS OF READING. 
By Fred. B. Perkins. 

HAVING dealt in a preceding paper — in an imperfect 
way enough, it is true — with some general notions 
about reading, my idea now is to suggest a course of reading. 
But the fact is that, in the general sense of the words, the 
thing cannot be done. There is no one course of reading 
which is the ideal best one any more than there exists Plato's 
ideal tree, being (he thought) the tree, in general or in the ab- 
stract ; and he said it existed somewhere. As soon state ex- 
actly the one best career in life. A course of reading on all 
subjects ? On what single class or single subject .> For a youth 
or an adult ? For one of defective education, of average, or of 
superior ? For study, for information, for accomplishment or 
for pleasure ? 

It is true that a general course can be laid out, as was done 

31 



32 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

by Chancellor Kent and by many others ; but the vast extent 
and dry aspect of such a course is a real Sahara to be scared 
away from ; not a "paradise of dainty devices " to be attracted 
into. A general course can be laid out, but it cannot be fol- 
lowed, at least, not unless there is a great part of a life-time 
to give to it. Two points, therefore, I shall state to begin 
with : Firsi^ any general course of reading, long or short, 
will almost certainly be mainly historical ; as, for instance, Py- 
croft's, the most sensibly handled of any of "he sort in Eng- 
lish ; where his historical part (including biography and col- 
laterals) fills nearly five-sixths of his whole book. And, 
second^ partial courses within the limits of some period in 
time, or on some definitely limited subject of research, or within 
some distinct lines of acquirement, can always be made inter- 
esting and profitable, and can be followed. One of two such 
courses, will show, I think, very easily, what I say cannot be 
done, and what can be. 

Suppose, then, first, a young farmer, merchant or mechanic, 
with a common school education and perhaps a year or two of 
academy besides, whose object in reading is not merely to do 
some reading, not merely to "improve his mind," but to do a 
better, because more definitely practicable, thing, something 
well worthy of manly ambition and manly thought — we will 
say, to give himself a competent education as a voter or 



FLANS OF READING. 33 

American sovereign. European sovereigns are most carefully 
and elaborately trained for their profession — and so ought ours 
to be. 

For such a purpose I know no better first book than that 
plain, dignified and powerful old-fashioned narrative, Mar- 
shall's " Life of Washington." The great and upright lawyer's 
simple and strong account of the great and upright general 
and ruler's life is full of high and healthy lessons. At the end, 
read Washington's farewell address twice. And then read, i< 
it can be done with pleasure, or even without too much fatigue, 
" The Federalist." That monumental exposition of the very 
bones and vitals and heartstrings of our national organization 
is not obsolete yet, and will not be very soon ; and, while of 
the highest importance always, it is especially so at this 
moment. I wish no man could vote next year who could not 
pass a fair examination in "The Federalist." Still, if this mas- 
sive structure of systematic reasoning is found too hard, put it 
by for some later year. I can hardly imagine a voter of any na- 
tural goodness of character casting a careless or unprincipled 
vote after a careful reading of Marshall. If Marshall's " Life 
of Washington " cannot be got take Irving's. 

Lives of great men are vivifying centres of historic knowl- 
edge. Using the law of contrast, take now " Plutarch's Lives " 
and read them, and consider, as you go on, the differences be- 



34 FRED. B, PERKINS. 

tween an ancient heathen and a modern Christian great man. 
And as you closed Washington's Life with his farewell address, 
close the series of Plutarch's heroes with a thoughtful reading 
— if you can find it interesting enough — of the " Thoughts of 
the Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus." These two works 
will show you the best things that the heathens could do or 
think — Plutarch is action, Antoninus is morality. 

Follow this somewhat pictorial method of beginning with a 
short course of history intended to present the progress of civ- 
ilization and to give materials for a general view of humanity 
as a body, as the previous books were meant to exhibit noble 
individual and political and moral ideas. First comes Grote's 
" Greece ;" and, if Finlay's is accessible (it is too little 
known), read that. These two books give an excellent and 
unbroken account of Grecian history from the mythological 
times down to and through the Greek Revolution. If Grote's 
eight volumes and Finlay's seven are too much, substitute 
Smith continued by Felton, which comes down to 1855 in one 
volume. Next, Mommsen's " Rome," and then Gibbon's '* De- 
cline and Fall," which do, after a fashion, for Rome what 
Grote and Finlay do for Greece. And if these are too long 
(together ten or twelve volumes), substitute Liddell's, Lord's, 
or Smith's single volume. For the Middle Ages read Hal- 
lam ; and if that is not to be had, Robertson's " View of 



PLANS OF READING. 35 

Europe in the Middle Ages " will do very well, and so will 
Green's " History of the Middle Ages ;" and when the his- 
tory is thus gone over read Froissart's " Chronicles " for a 
wonderfully striking and life-like contemporary account. 
Now take Russell's or Dyer's " Modern Europe," then Ali- 
son's (1789 to 1852) ; always remembering that Alison is dis- 
tinctly a Tory (aristocratic and anti-republican) writer. 
Having thus secured a connected view of the main story of 
human progress, narrow the scope and complete the study of 
this historical course by a few books on England and our own 
country. Green's " History of the English People " (the sec- 
ond enlarged edition) is perhaps the best of the short histo- 
ries ; if there is time for a longer one read Knight's '* Popular 
History," eight volumes ; and follow this with Stubbs' " Con- 
stitutional History of England," if you do not find it too 
tough ; this is a very instructive book, but very solid, too- 
Read, for enjoyment at least as much as for instruction, Mac- 
aulay's history, which (with a preliminary sketch) covers the 
period from 1685 to 1702 (James II and William III). For the 
period from William III to the end of our Revolutionary war 
read Lord Mahon's (afterward Earl Stanhope) history. In 
like manner as Macaulay and Mahon give repeated and more 
detailed accounts of interesting periods, it will be useful to 
read Miss Martineau's " History of the Peace," following on 



36 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

Alison's account of the Napoleonic wars, and very opposite to 
him in spirit, covering the time from 1800 to 1854. 

Having thus viewed, though briefly, mankind in social prog- 
ress from the dawn of history to the present generation, and 
then reviewed more closely that particular nation whose blood 
and manners and institutions, more than any other, we inherit, 
it remains to study our own nation, with whose greatest his- 
toric figure we began. Hildreth's history (6 vols. 8vo.) is the 
best ; it comes down to 1820 ; but it is dry. Bryant's (so- 
called) will do reasonably well ; it is to have one more vol- 
ume yet — four large octavos in all ; and Ollier's, known as 
Cassell's, is also a fairly good book. Indeed, any one of the 
one-volume high-school histories — Willard's, Wilson's, Quack- 
enboss' — has more in it than any ordinary person can remem- 
ber. And now I would have " The Federalist," if it proved 
impregnable at first, tried it again, and I would follow it 
with Dr. Von Hoist's '' Constitutional History of the United 
States." Then I would have my young man read the history 
of his own State — there is one, sometimes good and some- 
times not so good, for almost all of them — and the history of 
his own town or city, if there is one, and, lastly, the Constitu- 
tion of his own State, and the municipal ordinances of his 
town or city, if any ; and I believe that young man will 
make an intelligent, judicious and useful voter ; and, besides 



PLANS OF READING. 37 

that, it will be very strange if during this course of reading he 
has not noted a good many questions on which to read 
further, or other books to examine. Such a course ought to 
give him a start at least as an independent selector for him- 
self. 

I have not space enough left to describe any other course so 
fully, but one or two of different sorts may be barely indicated. 

Biographical. A peculiary fresh and interesting view of 
general or special history can be obtained by selecting a series 
of Lives, or Lives and Times, of the most prominent and in- 
fluential personages who have appeared among men. Here it 
will be found that the earliest biographies are Biblical, that of 
Moses being probably the best to begin with. The chain can 
not be kept unbroken, but some such succession could be made 
out as this : Moses ; the founder of a nation. David ; the rise 
of empire. Confucius ; a heathen moral philosophy ; Pericles ; 
a civilized Greek dictatorship. Socrates ; a Greek mission for 
free inquiry. Alcibiades ; Greek "personal politics." De- 
mosthenes ; Greek patriotic democracy. Xenophon ; Greek 
soldiership and literature. Plato ; Greek idealism. Aristotle ; 
Greek national science. Alexander ; Greek conquest. Han- 
nibal ; fighting it out in a losing cause. Mathias and the 
Maccabaean family ; patriotism upheld by a true religion. 
Csesar ; Roman military genius, literature and statesmanship 



38 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

Augustus ; Roman administration. Herod ; a tyranny. 
Christ ; a Redeemer. I need not continue the list, but of 
course the materials become rapidly more sufficient, and then 
ample, and then overpowering. It must not be supposed that 
such a series represents any systematic development or succes- 
sion on any single principle except, in a general way, the prin- 
ciple that the world improves. It is now a personal quality, 
now a national tendency, now an almost ideal " cause" that 
is represented, as the varying tides of the stream of time shift 
one way and another. Separate books on the great majority 
of such men are to be found ; such as the brief histories of 
Alexander the Great, Hannibal and Julius Caesar, by Mr. J. S. 
C. Abbott, which would do very well for most readers ; and, 
on the principles of library cataloguing as now practised, the 
books which any library has about each will appear in the cata- 
logue under his name in its alphabetical place. 

Literary j by masterpieces. One of Emerson's rules about 
reading to which I have before referred is, never to read 
any but "famed books." That I do not believe is a 
wise rule ; it is too exclusive ; but I can imagine very pro- 
found delight in a course of reading of the masterpieces of 
human intellect in their chronological order ; first coming 
down the line of the poets, then of the dramatists, then of the 
historians, then of the biographers, then of the philosophers (if 



PLANS OF READING. 39 

it be possible to read them), then of the wits and humorists, 
then of the romancers, then of the essayists, and so on. 

Religious ; by sacred books. This, it is true, requires too 
much learning for its adequate study to be suited to popular 
reading ; but is worth a brief reference by way of comparison. 
We have the Chinese classics, the Buddhist Tripitaka, the 
Brahminical Vedas, the Zoroastrian Zend Avesta, the Sikh Adi 
Granth, the Greek Theogony of Hesiod (which comes as near 
being a sacred book as any they had), the Jewish Talmud, the 
Mohammedan Koran, the Scandinavian Edda, the Christian 
Bible. All these, or sufficient parts of them for the purpose, 
have now been translated into English. Much of many of 
them is inexpressibly dreary reading ; and yet the study of 
them in their historic and moral and spiritual relations is pro- 
foundly instructive and fascinating. 

I have thus attempted to show how, instead of attempting to 
fix on one great (and as I believe impracticable and impossible) 
single ideal course of reading, the useful way must be to aim 
at something much more modest ; at one or another partial 
course, such as to fall within the possible reading time of one 
ivho has a living to earn. I cannot stop without adding that 
whatever is read, or is not, a good newspaper, coming not more 
seldom than weekly, should be read as a matter of duty The 
perfect newspaper does not exist. If, now, there could be 



40 FRED. B. PERKINS. 

combined the merits (so far as they differ) of the New York 
IVtbune and The Christian Unions the result would about suit 
me. But a paper of their grade and general purposes and at- 
tainments will constantly keep the mind wide awake, and con- 
stantly suggest interesting trains of historical deduction, by the 
connection, every now and then, of to-day's news with any and 
every historical course of reading. 



PLANS OF READING. 

By Cyrus Hamlin. 

MAKE yourself familiar with De Quincey's distinction 
between the "literature of knowledge" and the 
*' literature of power," and Ruskin's between *' books of the 
hour" and *' books of all time." The former is found in De 
Quincey's, " Letters to a Young Man whose education has been 
neglected," the latter in Ruskin's " Sesame and Lilies " in the 
lecture on Kings' Treasuries. In applying these distinctions 
do not forget the range of power we are to cultivate. It is not 
alone the feeling hopeful and strong that we want, but the ac- 
tually having power in the various calls of life ; as well among 
the needy, the sick, the sorrowing, as in the ordinary social 
gathering, and with congenial friends, and in our own thoughts 
and purposes. Starting with this intent, there are several alter- 
natives to choose between. 

41 



42 CYRUS HAMLIN. 

One might set about gaining an acquaintance with the great 
facts and events of history ; those that have most powerfully 
affected mankind. Take, for example, the rise and spread of 
Christianity, the Crusades, the revival of learning, the Refor- 
mation of the 1 6th century, the Puritan Revolution in Eng- 
land. Such a course would naturally lead to an acquaintance 
with the great movements of thought among men, the develop- 
ment of the various forms of art, of music, of literature ; Eng- 
lish literature first and chief. 

Another, and for many a more interesting way of arriving at 
substantially the same result, would be to take the great char- 
acters of history. It is no small thing, to begin with, to be in 
this way deeply impressed with the fact that there have been 
in the world men so different from their fellows in some way, 
so distinguished above them in will, or imagination, or power 
of intellect or of action, that they may properly be called 
great. The impression of such a character is one of the most 
vivifying and health-giving that can be made upon the mind of 
either young or old. It is a great mistake to consider the his- 
tory of mankind as simply the history of its greatest men. At 
the same time the lives of great men furnish a very convenient 
means of acquaintance with history in general. But the more 
important advantage is the acquaintance with great qualities, 
with great forces of character, which are the .creat forces of so- 



PLANS OF READING. 43 

ciety and the world. And more light will be thrown upon your 
own character and life, on what is needful and possible for you, 
than by much study of self. 

A list of names could easily be made out which would give 
the very essence of human history and life. It would of course 
vary with the taste of the reader, or the judgment of the coun- 
sellor. The following is only a partial hint of what one might 
be, taking names in different departments representing great 
epochs, traits of character and movements of thought : Con- 
stantine, St. Augustine, Charlemagne, Alfred the Great, St. 
Anselm, Richard I of England, Wiclif, Simon de Montfort, 
Savonarola, Luther, William of Orange, Queen Elizabeth of 
England, Michael Angelo, Cromwell, Beethoven. There is an 
English book, not republished in this country, very convenient 
and valuable in such a plan and worthy of being read in any 
placing : " Lectures on Great Men," by F. Myers. There is 
not space here to indicate individual biographies. 

If you are not attracted by any consecutive plan, propose to 
yourself to become familiar with the great books of the world ; 
those that men will not let die. A capital introduction to them 
is through the series of "Ancient Classics for English readers," 
edited by Collins, and " Foreign Classics," edited by Mrs. 
Oliphant, together with the series of " English Men of Let- 
ters." But do not undertake to read all. Select the most 



44 CYRUS HAMLIN. 

notable. And do not merely read about the authors and the 
books. Read the great books themselves, and read them 
studiously. Of the larger works, or collections, read portions. 
Everyone, for example, ought to read of Plato, the " Apology 
of Socrates," the " Crito," the " Phaedo," the latter with due 
regard to the unsoundness of its reasoning. Publishers of 
** Libraries " could do worse than issue some of these dialogues 
in cheap form. 

If you desire a less extensive plan, and your taste runs in 
that direction, take the great poets : Homer, ^schylus, Sopho- 
cles, Euripides, Virgil, Dante, Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton. 

Make each a centre of study. Read the poems, or the 
dramas ; then group other reading about these ; work out 
from each one in the directions which may be suggested, or 
may be most attractive to you — poetry, literary criticism, phil- 
osophy, history. Such a plan, while most interesting, will lead 
into the regions of the deepest experience of mankind, the 
truest and best thought and emotion that the heart of man 
knows, and will also by natural connection lead to much of the 
■most important history. 

In fact, it matters but little where one begins if there be a 
thorough purpose to go forward. Human nature, with all its 
vagaries, is so thoroughly one that thoughtful study will carry 
one from the starting-point into all the chief fields of thought 



PLANS OF READING. 45 

and research, not by the mere hunting out every name that 
may be mentioned, or every classical or historical allusion, 
but by the natural current and affiliation of the main drift 
of the work, its leading ideas, its great sentiments and pas- 
sion. 

Another outline is suggested by one of the features of John 
Ruskin's scheme for the training of English youth — the St. 
George's Company. His intent, if I remember correctly, is 
that the associates in the company shall correctly learn, among 
other things, the history of five cities — Athens, Rome, Venice, 
Florence, London. To these should be added Jerusalem, as a 
centre of the most important early religious history. Such a 
plan would combine in the most comprehensive and varied 
way the different elements of interest and instruction in the 
long and strange experience of men, and would bring one into 
direct acquaintance with the most important developments of 
human nature and the moral and intellectual powers, most con- 
stant and efficient, in the past and the present, in moulding the 
convictions, the hopes and the daily conduct of men. A 
particular commendation of this course is that, if faithfully 
pursued, it will lead one to consider the principles of polit- 
ical life and the relations of men in society, and so throw 
light on those questions which are daily gaining in interest 



46 CYRUS HAMLIN. 

and gravity, and which no intelligent person can afford to 
neglect. 

The purpose of these plans is not entertainment, though any 
of them will furnish this in abundance ; nor the acquirement 
of knowledge, though they all lead to this. They start from 
and return to the idea that the object of our reading, as of any 
serious thought, is to know how to live ; that therefore we 
must know the world in which we live, and that is as much a 
world of reason, imagination, affection, as it is of physical toil, 
or business struggle, or social ambition. 

We live by admiration, hope and love. You can hardly 
take a better guide in your reading. What things to de- 
light in with reverence, what things to hope for, and what 
things to love deeply and purely — this is what you want 
from books and in books just as from and in living persons. 
To pass through the simple experiences of human nature, 
the responsibilities, the hopes, the griefs as well as the glad- 
nesses, that attach to our common lot, to taste them in their 
pureness, to bear them with quietness and courage, to do our 
work with all our heart — this is a great thing ; to gain help 
for this is the great purpose in our reading, as in every friend- 
ship and all endeavor. And one of the chiefest blessings of 
books is that they bring to us the spirit of those who have 
felt the most deeply and acted the most manfully. They 



PLANS OF READING. 



47 



cannot take the place of actual experience, but they pre> 
pare for it. They interpret it to us ; they bring to the light 
much that lies undiscerned in our own natures, and rightly 
used, guide the way to the true fellowship of patient and noble 
living which makes all men akm. 



PLANS OF READING. 

Henry Ward Beecher's Method.* 

LAICUS. What are your methods of reading and of 
preserving the results of what you read ? 
Mr. Beecher. I read for three things ; first, to know what 
the world has done in the last twenty-four hours, and is 
about to do to-day ; second, for the knowledge which I 
specially want to use in my work ; and, third, for what 
will bring my mind into a proper mood. Different authors 
produce different effects upon my mind. Amongst the 
authors whom I frequently read are De Tocqueville, Mathew 
Arnold, Madame Guyon, and some of the old religious writ- 
ers — some of the mystical ones. Thomas a Kempis' " Im- 
itation of Christ " I keep within reach of my hands, both 
up stairs and down. The frets and cares of life are apt 



* An exact stenographic report of an actual conversation. 

48 



PLANS OF READING. 49 

to keep the lower section of the brain perturbed, and when 
you want to go to work on anything you are apt to carry 
trouble with you. There is an under-swell of discontent and 
unhappiness in you which unfits for the work which you want 
to do, and some authors have the peculiar quality of lifting 
you out of that into a serene and happy state. They excite 
the imagination and moral sentiment and lift me away above 
the dust into a state of mind in which I can work with facility 
and pleasure. 

Laicus. Does fiction serve you in that way ? 

Mr. Beecher. Sometimes it does ; but generally not. 
There are some authors of fiction whose works 1 like, but I 
usually prefer some work of solid information. I find I can 
enter to a very large extent oftentimes into the feelings which 
inspired the author when he wrote the book, and can tell what 
fibre of the man's mind was stirred as he wrote it. I feel it 
sensitively in mine, and a certain high temper and tone are at- 
tractive and exciting and uplifting to me. 

Laicus. What is the use of poetry in that respect ? 

Mr. Beecher. It depends on whose it is. Poetry that 
elevates and poetry that gratifies are very different indeed ; 
there is a great deal of interesting poetry that does not lift 
you, but merely entertains you where you are. But there is 
some poetry which carries you up to a higher sphere, particu- 



5© H. W. BEECHER. 

larly John Milton's prose-poetry, and the writings of men like 
old Daniel. He is not much read now-a-days. This is also 
true of some of Shakespeare's sonnets, which are perhaps the 
most wonderful of anything he ever wrote. 

LaicuSo This is reading to get yourself into a right state of 
mind ; what we may call moral hygienic reading. On what 
do you depend for your knowledge of current thought — upon 
books or upon periodicals ? 

Mr. Beecher. I gather it from both books and periodicals, 
and from conversation with men, from whom I get much that 
cannot be learned in any other way. I am a very slow 
reader. 

Laicus. I have always told people just the reverse ; and I 
am going to tell them the same on this point, notwithstanding 
your statement. I once went to your house (you have perhaps 
forgotten it) and gave you the proof-sheets of a book on phren- 
ology, of about three hundred pages, I suppose, which I want- 
ed you to look through. You got up from the table and went 
and sat down in the window ; you took the book, turning over 
the leaves, sometimes apparently half a dozen at a time, saying 
as you went through the book : " That isn't true ; " "' that's 
what I have been preaching all my life ; " " nonsense ; " " that's 
a pretty good idea ; " " never thought of this in that way be- 
fore," etc., and by the time we were half-way through the des- 



PLANS OF READING. 51 

sert you had finished the book and given me your opinion 
on it. 

Mr. Beecher. I could do that on a subject with which I was 
already very familiar, but not otherwise. Reading with me in- 
cites to reflection instantly. I cannot separate the origination 
of ideas from the reception of ideas ; the consequence is, as I 
read I always begin to think in various directions, and that 
makes my reading slow ; and that being the origin of it psy- 
chologically, it has grown into such a habit that if I read a 
novel even, I read slowly. A common story that my wife 
would read in less than twenty-four hours I generally take two 
or three weeks to get through, though not necessarily so. I 
read a few chapters, lay the book aside, and take it up again at 
some other time. I find no difficulty in doing that. 

Laicus. How do you make your selection of books from 
the great number that are published ? How do you judge what 
is worth reading and what is not ? 

Mr. Beecher. Emerson says that a book ought never to be 
read before it is twenty years old. 

Laicus. That's not your rule, is it .? 

Mr, Beecher. No. I never -inquire about the age of the 
book, but I am largely guided in purchasing them by men 
whose business it is to be posted in books. There are certain 
men to whom I can go and ask, " What is this author ? What 



52 H. W. BEECHER. 

is the standing of this book ? What has been said about it ? " 
and they will tell me in a few moments just what I want to 
know. They can describe a book just as Sir Joseph Hooker 
can describe a plant. I go to men in that regard as I do in 
everything else. Whenever I want anything I go to the man 
whose business it is to be informed on the matter, and when I 
have been to two or three men of that sort I can often make 
out of what I have got from them a better statement than any 
one of them could make for himself. 

Laicus. How is it in respect to old books — Plato, Bacon, 
and the like ? 

Mr. Beecher. Bacon I have read, but I cannot say I ever 
absorbed Bacon as I have John Milton. I have read a great 
deal of Edmund Burke. At one time he was a great favorite 
with me ; and so was Dr. Johnson for a time ; and the old 
theologians, Barrow and South, I also largely read. Barrow is 
the one solitary man speaking the English tongue who was a 
master of adjectives, and could use them endlessly and never 
once amiss ; for, to a large extent, adjectives are like leaves on 
a switch ; they may make it look pretty, as a branch, but they 
prevent it striking tinglingly when you use it. They cover up 
and smother the sense, and a style that is choice in its adjec- 
tives is far preferable to one that abounds in adjectives. I 
recollect a case in which my father at a public meeting 



PLANS OF READING. 53 

was appointed to draw up an article. He had written one 
sentence: *' It is wrong." Some one in the meeting got up 
and moved in his enthusiasm that this be corrected, and that 
the sentence read : ''It is exceedingly wrong." My father got 
up and said, in his milci way, " When I was writing out this 
resolution in its original shape that was the way I wrote it ; but, 
to make it stronger, I took out the * exceedingly.' " 

Laicus. You have made no mention as yet of reading for 
style, except incidentally. 

Mr. Beecher. I never read for style. 

Laicus. Would you advise young men to do so ? 

Mr. Beecher. I think a young man might read for style 
profitably ; but, after all, reading for style has a very limited 
function after a man gets ideas. The best essay on style that 
I know is that by Herbert Spencer ; and every young man 
ought to get it, read it and practise it. He says that is the 
best style which takes the thought or feeling or fancy of the 
speaker, and has the power of reproducing it on the retina of 
another person's mind. Though the manner and the moods 
of doing this may vary in detail, there are certain great fixed 
principles which do not vary. First among these Herbert 
Spencer places this : that it is to be done with the least 
possible labor to the person receiving the idea ; and in this 
respect he is directly opposed to Coleridge, who puts forward 



54 H. W. BEECHER. 

the theory that a man who has to dig for knowledge gets more 
benefit than one who acquires it without the trouble of dig- 
ging. 

Laicus. Don't you suppose your soaking yourself in John 
Milton has affected your style ? 

Mr. Beecher, It gave me a conception of power and vigor 
which I otherwise should not have had. I got fluency out of 
Burke very largely, and I obtained the sense of adjectives out 
of Barrow, besides the sense of exhaustiveness. He possesses 
that rare merit of being exhaustive but never exhausting. 

Laicus. I find in regard to myself that certain writers 
stimulate me ; that is true of Emerson and true of Carlyle. I 
don't pretend to be a student of Emerson ; but he always sets 
me thinking. There are some other writers I read, who are 
enervating. And I often find that my mind insensibly drifts 
somewhat into the methods of the last author I have read. 

Mr. Beecher. That will not do any harm, because it only 
lasts a little while ; it is the habit of some sympathetic na- 
tures ; but it cures itself with the next new author they take 
up. If I were to read this week in some of the nobler writ- 
ings of John Milton, you would hear the trumpet sounding 
next Sunday in Plymouth Church. 

Laicus. Have you anything to say about reading history ? 

Mr. Beecher. I should urge it. It is one of those things 



PLANS OF READING. 55 

which, like languages, it is very desirable to be acquainted 
with, and, if a young man is early put through it, is likely to 
be valuable to him during his life. But I don't believe much 
in history. It is very imperfect testimony of men's natures 
and thoughts, and gives one-sided views of their actions. 
You have to correct it yourself all the time, which you never 
will do. Average history is the most ingenious of fictions. 

Laicus. What plan would you recommend to a young man 
for preserving the results of his reading ? Have you yourself 
pursued any method to develop the habit of retentiveness of 
the subject-matter you read ? — which is a very important 
thing. 

Mr. Beecher. I never had the power of retaining sen- 
tences ; I seldom lose thoughts. I absorb the thoughts. My 
reading is like rain-drops, which, pattering down on the lake, 
become the lake itself. I never could repeat anything. It 
was the stone of stumbling and the rock of offense that as a 
boy I could never repeat the catechism ; I do not believe I 
could quote a dozen passages of Scripture correctly, and I do 
not know a hymn in the English language I could recite. 

Laicus. Have you any plan of marking books, or of 
journalizing or copying the pith of what you read t 

Mr. Beecher. No. But I think a common-place book a 
very good thing indeed. I would advise every young man to 



56 H. W. BEECHER. 

get into the habit of keeping something of the sort. The 
great point is to read nothing without reflection. Dr. Macau- 
lay, who used to preach in New York, told me when he was a 
boy at college that he began to read enthusiastically, but that 
at the foot of every page he read he stopped and obliged him- 
self to give an account of what he had read on that page. At 
first he had to read it three or four times before he got his 
mind firmly fixed. But he rigorously compelled himself to 
conform to the process, until now he says after he has read a 
book through once he can almost recite it from the beginning 
to the end. It is a very simple habit to form early in life, and 
is invaluable for acquiring accuracy and thorough knowledge 
of the material with which a man has to deal. 



VII. 

THE ART OF READING. 

By Hamilton W. Mabie. 

I r* VERY intelligent traveler who travels with a purpose 
-* — ' outlines his route, selects the places of interest which he 
desires t(5 visit and carefully apportions his time. If one is to 
traverse a certain area of territory in a given period his move- 
ments must be guided by forethought and method. He can- 
not afford to gratify his vagrant impulses by loitering at one 
point and another as his moods suggest. 

Reading is mental traveling through regions far more various 
and attractive than any which the longest routes of terrestrial 
journeyings afford. The tourist annihilates space, the reader 
destroys both space and time. The world of thought and ac- 
tion is spread out before him, and his greatest difficulty is apt 
to be that he does not know how to traverse it. He wastes his 
time in short and unprofitable excursions when he might be 
taking account of the antipodes. 

57 



58 HAMILTON W. MABIE. 

Many people expend in desultory reading time and effort 
that, wisely directed, would make them masters of epochs and 
literatures. The art of reading is to read in such a way that 
with the utmost economy of time one can secure the richest re- 
sults. Reading habits are generally formed, as are other hab- 
its, unconsciously. One who is just begmning to read or one 
who has already read much can form good reading habits, and 
so acquire the art of reading, as easily as any other habits can 
be formed, and no easier. Attention to a few rules for a rea- 
sonable time will result in the unconscious adoption of the 
rules by the mind which makes them habits, and relieves one 
from any further conscious effort. The art of reading cannot 
be conveyed in a single article, and two or three practical sug- 
gestions to busy people must be the limit of the present ef- 
fort. 

We cannot all be scholars, because scholarship demands un- 
interrupted hours and a continuous and absorbing attention, 
which in most cases the demands of active life make impossi- 
ble ; but anyone who has access to books may become educa- 
ted in a very liberal sense and without infringing on daily du- 
ties, if he only knows how to set about it. An element of the 
first importance is time. Many busy people declare that they 
have no time for reading ; but they are mistaken. They have 
all the time there is, and some of the world's busiest men have 



THE ART OF READING. 59 

found that enough to make themselves accomplished in one or 
more departments of knowledge. The trouble is not lack of 
time but wasteful habits in regard to it. Many persons enter- 
tain the notion that one must have regular and definite hours 
of the day or week set apart for reading in order to accom- 
plish anything valuable. There never was a greater mistake. 
The busiest life has margins of time which may serve, like the 
borders of the old missals, to enrich and exalt the common- 
places written between. Fifteen minutes in the morning and 
as many in the evening devoted faithfully to reading will add 
appreciably in the course of a few months to one's store of 
knowledge. Always have a book at hand, and, whether the 
opportunity brings you two hours or ten minutes, use it to the 
full. An English scientist learned a language in the time his 
wife kept him waiting for the completion of her evening toi- 
lettes ; and at the dinner given to Mr. Froude in this city some 
years ago, Mr. Beecher said that he had read through that 
author's brilliant but somewhat lengthy history in the intervals 
of dinner. Every life has pauses between its activities. The 
time spent in local travel in street-cars and ferries is a golden 
opportunity, if one will only resolutely make the most of it. 
It is not long spaces of time but the single purpose that turns 
every moment to account that makes great and fruitful acquisi- 
tions possible to men and women who have other work in life. 



6o HAMILTON W. MABIE. 

In order to have a book always at hand one must decide in 
advance what he is going to read next. For lack of this kind 
of forethought many readers waste time enough to make them- 
selves good literary scholars. They are never quite decided 
what to get and generally end with the first volume that comes 
to hand, which is likely to be something of only passing in- 
terest, if not entirely worthless. Therefore by all means adopt 
some system. Get from an experienced friend or make up for 
yourself a list of books. Take an epoch and read its history, 
its literature, its art, its discoveries ; take a literature and mas- 
ter it, author by author, with the aid of a good general history ; 
or make a list of the standard books on some subject that in- 
terests you, and read them. In whatever direction your taste 
may guide you, if it is a healthy one, go, but mark out your 
path before you start so that you need lose no time on the way. 
Having put your list in some convenient form resolutely adhere 
to it. This may involve some effort at first, but one cannot 
get substantial results of any kind without some persistency, 
certainly not from reading. Macaulay looks formidable, but 
it is astonishing how, when the charm of a book makes itself 
felt, the pages seem to grow shorter, and how a degree of per- 
sistence possible even to an undisciplined mind will take one 
through the most formidable histories. 

To get the best results from reading one must give himself 



THE ART OF READING. 6l 

up to it. For the time being every object but the printed 
page must be forgotten. One must be entirely abstracted from 
his surroundings. This suggestion will not be so easily adopted 
as those already given. It involves an amount of mental dis- 
cipline which one naturally shrinks from. There is, however, 
the widest difference in results between reading with a mind 
continually diverted by the things that are going on around 
one, and reading with a mind intently and absorbingly fixed on 
the subject in hand. The busy reader must not only carry his 
book with him, he must make his study wherever he happens 
to be. A book photographs itself on a mind which exposes to 
it a clear and sensitive surface. To sit in a railway car, and 
by opening the pages of a book to transport one's self in a sec- 
ond into the age of Pericles or the gardens of the Medici at 
Florence, is the modern version of Aladdin's lamp, and makes 
one master of treasures more rare and lustrous than those 
which adorned the palaces of Bagdad. 



VIII. 

THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 
By Edward Everett Hale. 

WHEN a young man or a young woman, fresh from 
school, has the good luck for the first time to sit 
silent and listen to the talk of a group of well-read people, I 
think that, mingled with the pleasure of listening, there is apt 
to come in a feeling of despair. " How do they know so 
much ? " " How can they have read so much, and where shall 
I begin ? " I knew a young man, who afterward became in- 
sane, who was so impressed by his own ignorance that he went 
to the college librarian and asked him at which end of the 
library it was customary for students to begin. He used to 
tell the story in college, as if he had asked a fool's question. 
It is a question to which the wisest men have addressed them- 
selves, with varying success. The most intricate plans for the 

arrangement of libraries and catalogues have been made in 

62 



THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 63 

the hope of helping a solution. For the question is : By 
which avenue shall we best enter the domain of literature, so 
that in the shortest time we may go through all its side-avenues, 
cross-paths and mazes ? And, indeed, the question involves 
the other question : Would it not be better to go first upon a 
high tower and look down upon the maze, or, perhaps, to take 
a quick bicycle-run through the largest paths, by way of in- 
troduction to that slow plodding en foot of a life-time in which 
one shall at last come to the knowledge of every detail ? 

To these questions I do not propose any scientific or logical 
answer. That would be the business rather of orators address- 
ing the Phi Beta Kappa, or the Alpha Delta Phi, or other 
literary societies. I shall rather try to give some practical 
recipes which work well, and for which if I were challenged I 
could give the theory ; but I shall here leave out the theory, 
though I may sometimes suggest it. 

In the first place, we must make this business agreeable. 
Whichever avenue we take into the maze must be one of the 
pleasant avenues, or else, in a world which the good God has 
made very beautiful, the young people will go a-skating, or 
a-fishing, or a-swimming, or a-voyaging, and not a-reading, and 
no blame to them. Now, we shall not insure this pleasant- 
ness of the work by any well-digested list of books beginning 
with " Stone's History of the Neolithic Ages," *' Stock's His- 



64 EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 

tory of the Idolaters," "Long's Essay on the Laws of Descent," 
and coming out on " Drone's Conspectus of Future Civiliza- 
tion." We learn something worth learning when we see that 
in public libraries the first volumes of histories are much more 
worn than the second, the second than the third, while the 
fifth and sixth are scarce worn at all. This means that the 
young readers, who started as numerous as the pilgrims on 
Mirza's bridge, fell by the way as rapidly as they did. And, as 
only one English officer came up to General Jackson's line alive 
and then turned around amazed to ask why his men did not 
follow him, so there is hardly one in a thousand who attacks Lin- 
gard or Froude with the audacity of youth who ever comes 
out with the laurels of victory at the end of the tenth or 
twelfth volume. Alexander Everett used to say, " Books must 
be legible.- You might as well write with white ink on white 
paper, or with blue ink on blue paper, as write so as to put 
the reader to sleep, or in any way discourage him from read- 
ing." And the converse of this applies in the matter we have 
in hand. As this business can be made agreeable let us make 
it so, and enlist in our pilgrimage not only the ascetics who 
think it a duty to be unhappy and uncomfortable but that 
larger number of persons who, though not depraved, are glad 
to have a good time as they go. No fear in this world but 
the ascetics will find a plenty of stupid reading, and can with- 



THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 65 

out our instruction make their course as disagreeable as they 
choose. 

Let us then, instead of starting with a list of books to be 
read in six months, or six years, or sixty-six, take some par- 
ticular book which young people of sense are quite sure to 
like. Suppose we take the single volume of Macaulay's Es- 
says, which may be bought in a nice English edition for a 
dollar. Let us hope there is a club willing to read this at 
once, consisting of three nice girls, or two nice girls and a boy, 
or two nice boys and a girl, or three nice boys. Even now I 
do not propose that they should begin the book and read it 
through. Why should they ? It is made up of articles which 
were written at different periods, as Macaulay had time or oc- 
casion. But suppose they took the " Life of William Pitt, 
Lord Chatham." Suppose they knew that Pitt was somehow 
mixed up with the history of America. They would know 
this from the names of " Pittsfield " and " Pittsburg," if they 
had formed the good habit of thinking or asking about names. 
Suppose they knew that nothing Macaulay wrote would be 
dull, and so, for their first evenings, read the two articles on 
the life of Pitt. 

They will not read very far before the sense of their own ig- 
norance overpowers them. They will find people alluded to 
that they never heard of, and things spoken of as perfect mat- 



66 EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 

ters of course of which none of the three knew anything. 
Very well. What of that ? Just what we are reading for is 
to learn these very things. Eternity is before us if we only 
begin promptly — now — as the archangels do. 

Let each of the three then have a piece of blank paper and 
a pencil, so as to note in a moment and without stopping the 
reading some of the things in which he most feels his igno- 
rance, or what he most wants to know. I use the blank 
paper at the end of the book if the book is my own. No 
matter if the different members of the club make different 
lists. Let them jot down a word or two with reference to the 
page of the book they are reading. 

Here is such a list : 

Macaulay's Life of Pitt. Edinburgh R., January, 1834, 
Oct., 1844.* 

Orleans Diamonds. Essays, IL, 225. 

Rotten Boroughs. 

Chesterfield. Ton. 230. 

Jacobite Rebellion. 

Pepys, 241. 

The Pretender, 245, 

Murrays, 247. 

Minorca, 226. 



* Of course if your notes are in the book this title is unnecessary. 



THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 6j 

Brovm'4 Estimate. 

Adm>ul Byng, 259. 

Goree. Ticonderoga. Wolfe. 267. 

Lord George Sackville, 271. 

Of course I do not say that you yourself, reading in an- 
other mood, would not make a different list. I do not pretend 
that this is the best list. It is a list. And if you will take its 
hints it will lead you in the way in which you should go, sup- 
posing always that you have made it for yourself. That is, 
I suppose that such little notes will call to your mind so many 
subjects on which you are ignorant, and about which you will 
like to learn. 

Now, what I propose is that, before th^e club meets the next 
time, each of its members shall loyally try to make good his 
ignorance on some of those points. Sometimes the cyclo- 
paedia will help you — sometimes the mere fact that your eyes 
are opened makes you see the thing. Thus, the mere fact that 
you wrote down the words " Regent's diamond," makes those 
words start out from the newspaper where there is an article 
about the " Regent's diamond " which you would never have 
looked at twice, had you not been reading Macaulay's essay. 
Any library, however small, your own or a friend's, will help 
you much more than you can dream before you have tried. 
And the great merit of the " Public Libraries," however lim- 



68 EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 

ited their funds or the numbers of their books, is that they 
do help directly such readers as you are beginning to be. Not 
least is the resource of conversation. Ask any person you 
really like, who is not a sheer fool, to help you. If you meet 
the minister in the street car, say to him squarely, " Can you 
tell me, Mr. Edwards, what * Brown's Estimate ' is ?" May be 
he will know. May be he will not. But he ought to be able 
to find out, or put you on the way to. 

Now, mark, I do not say that all these questions are to be 
answered at once, or half of them. I only say that each of 
you is to make a loyal effort to rub down his list, or her list, 
before the reading club meets again. When it meets give ap- 
preciable time to the lists, before you go on with the reading. 
It may be in very fast talk. But let each one bring in his 
quota. The talk will be something like this : 

" What in the world are you lugging, Fergus ?" 

" Why ! I have got the original folio edition of Pope's * Es- 
say on Man.' Dean McVaughan lent it to me." 

" Oh ! I hate the * Essay on Man.'* I had to learn it at 
school : 

" * Awake, my St. John.' 

** I can spout it now." 

" But see, it is not * St. John.* Here it is * Laelius,' and 
Pope's theology changed after this. He says here that the 



THE CHOICE OF BOOKS. 69 

Vvorld is a 'maze without a plan.' But when you learned it he 
Bald it was ^ not without a plan.' " 

" That's queer. Did you find what he said about the old 
Duchess of Marlborough ?" 

" Yes, but first look here. See this about Chesterfield. I 
remembered you had Chesterfield on your list." 

" Oh yes, and the letters seem very droll — look here, and 
look here." 

" But has anybody found ' Brown's Estimate ?' " and so on, 
and so on, till they must begin to read. 

Do you not see that a very few weeks of such experience 
will really transfer all three of them into the spirit of the 
times in which William Pitt was born and grew up ? And be- 
fore they have finished that single essay of Macaulay's they 
will have learned " How to Read," better than I can teach 
them. 

Of course it may happen that a person must read alone. 
He will have to use more pluck because he has less sympathy. 
In suggesting that three people shall read together, I have 
only meant to say that I think that is the most enlivening 
way. 



IX. 

HOW TO MAKE DULL BOYS READ. 
By Joseph Cook. 

THE problem is different in country and city. The coun- 
try presents by far the more difficult side of the theme. 
In the first place, the pulpit ought to be awakened to the duty 
of directing the reading of the young. The pastor in his visits 
may ascertain very easily what the boys are reading, and a 
little attention to family libraries ought, I think, to be a part of 
pastoral activity. It is to me a very interesting memory that a 
venerated preacher in my native town, the brother of Treasurer 
Herrick, of Yale College — Henry Herrick, who was lately liv- 
ing in Connecticut — came into my father's house when I was, 
perhaps, ten years old, and looked at my library. His com- 
mendation of certain books interested me. Altliough he was 
not officious he was efficient in directing my reading. Two 

districts had been united near my father's residence and a 

70 



HOW TO MAKE DULL BOYS READ. 7I 

library was to be sold at auction. My father furnished me 
with money enough to buy pretty nearly the whole of this col- 
lection, and I thus came into possession of many of the books 
issued by the Harpers for school libraries. The selection was 
made by Chancellor Walworth, assisted by such men as Ed- 
ward Everett and Jared Sparks, and was a really good one, 
containing such volumes as " The Pursuit of Knowledge Un- 
der Difficulties," Paley's " Natural Theology," and Benjamin 
Franklin's autobiography. It fascinated me at that time, and 
I shall never forget how proud I was of my first library, which 
was hardly more than three feet square. 

But to incite a dull boy to read you must not rely on clerical 
influence as much as on parental ; and, therefore, attention 
must be given to the reading of the older members of the com- 
munity. If the heads of the family have a love for reading, 
the taste almost invariably descends to the children. The for- 
mation of town libraries in places with populations of three to 
five thousand inhabitants ought to be encouraged. The school- 
teacher in every Union school or academy should be furnished 
with the means of inciting a taste for reading in his pupils by 
the aid of a library belonging to the institution. 

The sluggish circulation of books in our rural districts should 
be quickened in all ways, and especially through cheap editions 
of great authors. It appears to me one of the hopeful signs of 



72 JOSEPH COOK. 

the times that scientific primers are now being widely put into 
circulation. Of course there is no royal road to knowledge, 
but it is better that elementary instruction, prepared in primers 
by experts, should be sunk into the minds of the population 
than that the common people should go back even to the rever- 
ence which they had in early New England days for scholars 
speaking ex cathedra. We are a nation of smatterers, but hope 
to be something better in time. The fear of superficial learn- 
ing through the distribution of science in an elementary form 
is not unnatural on the part of some, yet it should be remem- 
bered that these primers are usually written by experts, and 
that the names of several of the foremost men in science have 
been placed upon the title-pages of elementary works for the 
people. Let a boy have these and he will be incited by them 
to the study of the greater works, which ought to be classics 
even in libraries intended for young people. 

Make a dull boy feel that the dime novel is vulgar. I re- 
member that, in " Telemachus," Ulysses tried to convince a 
man who had become one of a herd of swine that it was shame- 
ful to be a pig ; but he did not succeed. The flooding of the 
land with dime novels and with infamous periodicals of the 
cheaper and coarser kind acts like Circe's enchantment on wide 
circles of youth. No doubt it is a frequent incitement to crime, 
and, on the whole, is one of the most monstrous of the undis- 



HOW TO MAKE DULL BOYS READ. 73 

guised evils in the modern days of cheap printing. Let a boy 
learn that some publications are not fit to be handled with the 
tongs. Let parents exclude from the family mansion the frogs 
and vipers that swarm forth from the oozy marshes of the 
Satanic press. Let the dull boy make the acquaintance of 
Cooper, Scott, Defoe and " Pilgrim's Progress " — a book by no 
means outgrown. Personally I must confess great indebted- 
ness to the " RoUo " books, the " Jonas " books and *' The 
Young Christian," by the late revered father of the editor of 
The Christian Union. Richter, in his " Titan," represents one of 
his characters at the age of twenty-five as making a collection 
of all the books he had read while young, including the vol- 
umes he had studied at school as well as the fiction which 
had interested him in early days. Let a dull boy be incited by 
his parents, his school teachers, his Sunday-school instructors, 
and especially by his pastor, to dip deeply into the classics for 
youth. After the best works of historical fiction become fas- 
cinating to him, history will interest and biography will attract 
him. When a boy has once acquired a keen interest in bio- 
graphical and historical reading he cannot thereafter be wholly 
rulgar in his taste for literature. 

As to the bright boy in the country little need be said, for 
he will take care of himself. He will have the best books, or 
a few of them at least, and they will be his chief treasures. 



74 . JOSEPH- COOK. 

My impression is that such a boy ought not to think the city 
necessary for a thorough acquaintance with the masters of lit- 
erature. There are only about one thousand really first-class 
books in the English language — certainly not over a thou- 
sand that deserve reading three times through. Of the great- 
est books there are not over a hundred in the mother-tongue 
in which any man is born. If teacher and parent will help the 
boys to select these, and make up a library for them out of the 
volumes that deserve to be absorbed, the taste of a bright boy 
will very soon guide itself. He cannot go amiss in the list of 
books which time has approved. My opinion is that the taste 
of youth should be formed by literature of standard reputation 
far more than by ephemeral novelties, however brilliant. We 
should early become thoroughly familiar with the hundred best 
books in our language, for these will be with us through life, 
and be the chief solace of our declining years. I can put into 
a bookcase five feet square the volumes which, in my opinion, 
contain the chief weight of English literature. We are to 
weigh books, not measure them, and I would do this even for 
youth. 

As to both dull boys and bright boys in cities, their oppor- 
tunities of information are so abundant that only two pieces of 
advice need be given : 

Carlyle's exclamation, " Here are books ; fall to I " 



HOW TO MAKE DULL BOYS READ. 75 

And Wellington's at Waterloo, " Up and at 'em ! " 

The chief difficulty of bright boys in the city will be in the 
abundance of books ; and I think it important to insist rigor- 
ously, especially for the keenest, that their library shelves 
should not be <r<?/lections but ^^lections. They will have the 
family library, the city library, and perhaps three or four other 
libraries within reach, besides the bookstores ; which last are 
by no means to be neglected, for reading a book with the fin- 
gers at a bookseller's stall is an art that should be taught early 
to youth. 

The dull city boy is in the midst of more temptation than the 
dull country boy, and nothing but the most earnest training on 
the part of his parents or instructors will prevent him from 
forming a taste for coarse amusements, and so neglecting the 
deluge of opportunity about him. The dull city boy is in a 
position not to be envied by the dull country boy, for probably 
of all circumstances that tempt the youth of a somewhat tor- 
pid intellect those of the great city are the worst sorceries and 
likely to cause him to become the most degraded. The dull 
boy in the city, therefore, should be brought into clubs of 
young people and made ashamed of himself, if he neglects the 
opportunities for reading afforded by such societies as bring 
out social ambition in" connection with literary taste. 

I have at no time forgotten the efforts making in the United 



76 JOSEPH COOK. 

States for the promotion of home reading, and they apply to 
the country as well as to the city, but afford particular advan- 
tages to the populations of large villages. The Boston " Society 
for the Promotion of Home Reading" furnishes a list of volumes 
on special topics, carries on correspondence as to authori- 
ties in science, prints circulars, and has an annual reunion of 
such readers as choose to participate in it. I believe also that 
essays are sent in for examination by some readers at a dis- 
tance. The celebrated Chautauqua plan for the promotion of 
home reading has application both to the city and the country, 
but especially to the latter, and appears to me to deserve the 
weighty commendation it received from William Cullen Bryant. 
Some fifteen thousand persons have paid a small fee to secure 
the assistance of the Central Secretary, Dr. Vincent, of Plain- 
field, New Jersey, who executes the Chautauqua plan. The 
text books are many of them written by experts expressly for 
preparatory courses, and are strongly to be recommended for 
popular reading. A close oversight of the work of the readers 
is kept by the secretary ; certain reunions occur — or will take 
place — but the plan is yet in its infancy. The object of the 
enterprise is to give the average citizen a college student's out- 
look. Let boys be brought into such plans as the Boston and 
Chautauqua reading enterprises exemplify, and let the dull 
youth be harnessed with the bright one and so keep himself 
out of the places of temptation in cities. 



HOW TO MAKE DULL BOYS READ. 77 

Over every library-case should stand the words : " Avoid 
rubbish." A second-rate book, however good, is a mischief if 
it occupies the time we ought to devote to a first-rate. In re- 
gard to reading, as well as to much else, there is deep wisdom 
in a German proverb which asserts that the better is a great 
enemy of the best. 



X. 

HOW TO PRESERVE THE RESULTS OF READING, 
By Joseph Cook. 

SAMUEL JOHNSON says that " interest is the mother 
of attention ; " but attention is the mother of memory. 
To secure memory, therefore, secure its mother and grand- 
mother. It is a very common and fatal error to neglect this 
grandparent. When one is absorbingly interested in a theme 
the mind becomes strangely receptive, and draws to itself, as a 
magnet gathers up iron filings, all information within its reach 
as to the topic in hand. The best rule for the acquisition and 
the preservation of information is to make the mind magnetic 
by acquiring profound interest in a theme. Possibly your in- 
tellectual enthusiasm may limit itself to one topic for a long 
while. A specialist may become lynx-eyed, and yet, by reason 
of exclusive attention to a single subject, also remain wall-eyed. 
Endeavor, therefore, to excite in yourself two enthusiasms, in 

7a 



HOW TO PRESERVE THE RESULTS OF READING. 79 

order that there may be both a north and a south pole in the 
magnet of your intellect. Two subjects will be likely to draw 
into connection with themselves a range of reading which will 
be something like what the Jordan is in the northern half of 
the Dead Sea — a current of perfectly fresh water in the midst 
of bitter waves. You may have, as Ruskin says, " a little 
island of your own with a grove and spring in it, sweet and 
good," while the waste, howling ocean of the world's useless 
information rolls around you. 

Personally, I have learned to rely on the margins of the 
books that I read as being themselves my best note-books. Of 
course I am speaking now only of the volumes which are my 
own property. These I am perhaps scandalously free in mark- 
ing, and so every ordinary volume that I have in my library 
becomes a note-book. If one indicates the important and 
more important and most important passages in a book, even 
if it be only by one or two or three lines in the margin, and if 
one then makes it an inflexible rule to commit to memory from 
every one of the volmnes thus marked all the three line passages, he 
will very soon find that his annotated volumes are in his head. 
In committing to memory the three-line passages I should ad- 
vise everyone, as I do myself, to oblige himself to review and 
and pretty nearly commit to memory the two-line and the one- 
line passages. These may not be numerous in some volumes, 



8o JOSEPH COOK. 

and yet in works that are only to be read with the fingers they 
are worth memorizing. 

It is said that Carlyle reads on the average a dozen books a 
day. Of course he examines them chiefly with his fingers, and 
after long practice is able to find at once the jugular vein and 
carotid artery of any author. John Quincy Adams was said to 
have " a carnivorous instinct for the jugular vein " of an argu- 
ment. In discussing the secret of memory, we first have inter- 
est inducing attention, and then the skill given by experience 
in finding the jugular vein. My habit is to mark on the inner 
margin all the passages with which I disagree, and thus many 
volumes which I am obliged to read are transformed into thorn- 
bushes full of spurs to debate. The shelf of my library on 
which I have collected the chief infidel writers' works of the 
last hundred years holds volumes plentifully marked in this 
way. The three-line passages I have committed to memory as 
being enormous and most mischievous errors. This plan of 
marking volumes can be made very elaborate, and every reader 
must invent his marks for himself. My enthusiasm led me to 
have altogether too elaborate a system of marking ; but at pres- 
ent I am convinced that for myself I need only six marks — 
those for important, more important, and most important pas- 
sages, which I mark on the outside margin, and those for er- 
ror, and more and most important errors, which I mark on the 



HOW TO PRESERVE THE RESULTS OF READING. 8l 

inside. I turn down the leaf at the top of the page for the 
first-class passages that are to be memorized, and at the bot- 
tom for the second-rate passages. Standard books I like to 
buy in portable and compact and yet cheap editions, on which 
I can use a pencil without sacrilege. I always go through the 
book fastening in mind the places marked, when I have finished 
the first journey. 

A word now as to note-books, and volumes that you do not 
own. Of course a borrowed book cannot be marked, and 
probably in that case Channing's method is the best one — to 
read with slips of paper between the leaves. In his pigeon- 
holes these slips of paper, on which he made notes as he read, 
were arranged according to the subjects and as they accumula- 
ted from year to year ; and when he was engaged upon any 
particular topic they accumulated with great rapidity. I am 
obliged to read extensively in libraries not my own, and my 
plan is to make notes on common paper with a margin turned 
down at the left-hand side. I never put more than one subject 
on one piece or paper ; and every week or fortnight the slips 
thus obtained are filed or pinned together according to the sub- 
jects. Thus my note-book thickens ; but if convenience re- 
quires, can be unstitched and rearranged. It appears to me to 
be foolishness to keep ordinary note-books in thick, bound 
manuscript volumes which cannot be taken before a public as- 



82 JOSEPH COOK. 

sembly, or used in separate parts. I am obliged to carry note- 
books with me on the railways, and am always provided with 
the simplest form of note paper. Of course these leaves can 
be easily put into the form of note-books which can be rear- 
ranged if necessary ; and I find it best never to bind them. I 
wish often to unbind them. A passage which I think I shall 
quote in print from any book I am accustomed to write length- 
wise of the paper — that is, from the bottom to the top ; a pas- 
sage I think I shall not quote I write the other way. All slips 
written from bottom to top are first-class matter ; and I can 
easily take them out of my note-books and put them into man- 
uscripts intended for the press. I am obliged to do this some- 
times in great haste, and find it important to have my note- 
books unbound. If I had to keep notes in bound volumes the 
infelicity of tearing out leaves would be unavoidable, as there 
would be no time for copying. 

But the results of reading are best preserved by communi- 
cating them to others. Let young men be taught to keep 
commonplace books, and especially to converse concerning 
what they read. I am not a friend of very large attention to 
debating societies by young men advanced to the higher stages 
of college training ; but in the academic period — the years of 
preparation for college and especially in the days of the 
country academy — it appears to me that a youth with any 



HOW TO PRESERVE THE RESULTS OF READING. 83 

tendency toward public speaking should be encouraged to 
enter school debates and the best lyceums, in order that he 
may communicate to others the results of his reading. No 
one is so likely to remember what he reads as he who reads 
with a purpose of advancing sonie good cause by communi- 
cating his information. If a young man intends to enter the 
profession of law, or theology, or to become a lecturer, or 
author, or editor, he has before him such a career that he 
should begin early to imitate Edmund Burke in constantly 
working out trains of thought. Let him make notes, early, in 
his commonplace books, and he will find that years before he 
can face the public he will have accumulated many suggestions 
likely to be of great service in his professional career. Mr. 
Emerson's essays are gathered from his journals. So were 
Goethe's and Montaigne's. So were Thoreau's. In a railway 
train at one sitting I once read through three of Mr. Emer- 
son's essays backward. The paragraphs are selected from his 
journals, and are often arranged in no logical connection. 
Mr. Alcott says that he once found Emerson in his study en- 
gaged in shuffling a set of manuscript extracts from his jour- 
nals in order that he might determine the order of the para- 
graphs in an essay which afterward became celebrated. It is a 
Concord theory that the very finest writing must be grown in 
the orchards of journals. The preservation of the results of 



84 " JOSEPH COOK. 

reading in journals is to be commended to young men of liter- 
ary taste, and yet journal-writing may easily be made to minis- 
ter to vanity, self-consciousness and individualism of a mis- 
chievous species, and if carried far enough may mislead even 
a powerful man into ego-theism. But I am now speaking of a 
journal much like a commonplace book, and can recommend, 
as one good means of securing the results of reading, a daily 
or weekly expression of one's thoughts as to the subjects ex- 
amined, and the collection from those entries of the best 
passages into essays, after Mr. Emerson's method. 



XL 

HINTS FOR PEOPLE THAT DO NOT READ. 
By Lyman Abbott. 

YOUR time is limited ; your books are few. There is 
work in the kitchen, in the parlor, in the office demand- 
ing your attention ; clients to be pacified or provoked, pa- 
tients to be cured or killed, goods to be bought and sold, chil- 
dren to be tended, furniture to be dusted, table to be set and 
table to be cleared away again ; and for a library the family 
Bible, Webster's Dictionary, the well-thumbed and oft-read 
books in the sitting room, and the genteel and gilt-edged poetry 
in the parlor, with a limited purse from which to replenish the 
exhausted library, and limited time with which to use it if it 
were replenished. This is no fancy sketch, but a photograph 
of many an American life. How find time, how find means 
for study in such circumstances, is the problem of many a 
would-be student who lays down his intellectual life in despair ; 

85 



86 LYMAN ABBOTT. 

who in the first twenty years of his life gets an appetite for 
learning and in the other forty starves to death. Especially is 
this true of wives and mothers. How shall a would-be student 
so situated pursue systematic reading and study ? 

I. America gives a library to almost every, home, in the pe- 
riodical publications — the daily journal, the weekly paper and 
the monthly magazine. Two copies of the New York Tribufie 
cost eight cents. Two copies of The Christian Union cost twelve 
cents ; the two copies of either paper contain nearly or quite 
as much matter as is contained in an ordinary dollar book. 
Either the daily or the weekly newspaper furnishes in quantity 
abundant material for study, and material in quality well worth 
study. The modern newspaper gives a history of human life. 
In it you may read the record of God's work in our own age ; 
and in no age has his work been grander or human progress 
more rapid. In France, an empire transformed into a republic, 
and religious liberty which had been exiled two hundred years 
ago summoned back to the home of the Huguenots ; in Spain, 
the Bourbon queen driven from her disgraced throne and a 
constitutional government borrowed from England for the land 
of Philip II, a noble revenge for the Spanish Armada of the 
sixteenth century ; Italy, which has given law to Christendom, 
once more clad with law ; and Rome, mother of republics, once 
more made Republican in all but name ; the crescent turning 



HINTS FOR PEOPLE THAT DO NOT READ. 87 

back upon its path and setting in the East in a stormy sky, 
while out of a people long lying prostrate at the foot of the 
" unspeakable Turk " emerges the germ of a nation possibly to 
rival the glory of ancient Macedon, — these are some of the 
events which have taken place within the last cycle. Of them 
no book will tell you. For them you must go to the news- 
paper. What in interest and importance to us are the Gallic 
campaigns of Caesar and the strifes between plebeian and aris- 
tocrat in Rome compared with this history, in which we live 
and of which we form a part ? Study the newspaper ; if pos- 
sible, study it with cyclopaedia, with atlas, with gazetteer ; but 
study it. No literature is worthier your study. Waste no time 
on the shameful scandals, the bitter political controversies, the 
ecclesiastical broadsword exercises and the idle paragraph gos- 
sip. A war of words is no more dignified in a journal than on 
the street ; gossip is no worthier your attention because printed 
by the daily tattler than when whispered by a daily tattler. 
Who was married and what she wore can be safely dismissed 
in a casual reading, perhaps better with none at all. But how 
God is evoking a new continent out of Africa, by the labor of 
a Livingstone and a Stanley ; how he is laying the foundation 
of a new free commonwealth in Bulgaria ; how he is redeeming 
France from the curse she brought upon herself by the cruelties 
first of a religion without humanity, and then of a humanita- 



55 LYMAN ABBOTT. 

rianism without religion, — these are themes worthy of study ; 
and the newspaper is the library in which to study them. 
There is no more fascinating intellectual occupation than 
watching the course of contemporaneous history. The de- 
nouements of Wilkie Collins and Charles Reade are nothing to 
those of life's actual drama. The romance of fiction is inane 
by the side of the romance of facts. 

II. In this study the monthly perodical will aid you. The 
American magazine is rightly named. " A magazine," says 
Webster, " is a storehouse, a granary, a cellar ; a warehouse in 
which anything is stored or deposited." The world has never 
known such storehouses of well-selected mental food as are fur- 
nished by our American publishers — by " Scribner's," "Harp- 
er's," " Lippincott's" and the " Atlantic." The ablest writers 
of America are laid under contribution. The ablest artists are 
called on to add both the attractions and illuminations of the 
pencil. The highest prices are paid to both. The magazine 
skims the cream from many a pen and gives it to its readers. 
The weekly paper churns the cream into butter. The art of 
skilled condensation can go no farther than we carry it in 
America. 

III. But to the journal — weekly or daily — and the magazine 
you will want to add some study of books. Periodical reading 
may become desultory reading. It need not, but there is always 



HINTS FOR PEOPLE THAT DO NOT READ. 89 

danger. In the periodical you buy your worsteds of all colors 
mixed together. You must afterward do your own sorting or 
the product of your needles will be of a very heterogeneous pat- 
tern. But it does not require a great deal of money to add a 
study of excellent books to the study of periodicals. The 
Harper's Half Hour Series includes a good assortment of 
English classics ; and they are sold at twenty-five cents each. 
The Chautauqua primers are excellent guides to study, and 
they cost from ten to twenty cents. I am in favor of interna- 
tional copyright ; but when I perceive that the English edition 
of Justin McCarthy's " History of Our Own Times " costs 
nine dollars, and an American pamphlet edition is produced 
for a quarter of a dollar, I hope that the copyright, when it 
comes, will not leave American readers at the mercy of Eng- 
lish prices. 

For courses of study in books observe three rules : 

1. Begin with what is congenial. Choose not what you 
ought to know but what you want to know. Therefore let 
no one else choose for you. It is a rare mind that can 
keep itself to a course of distasteful study. It is not safe 
for any one to assume, without proof, that he has a rare 
mind. 

2. Begin with a short course. Do not lay out, for history, 
Hume, Macaulay and Miss Martineau, with the idea that when 



90 LYMAN ABBOTT. 

you have finished these fifteen volumes you will be well versed 
in English history. That is very true; but you will never 
finish them. Read Jacob Abbott's life of Charles I or II, 
or Macaulay's Lord Chatham or Temple, or Thomas Hughes' 
Alfred the Great. One thing at a time ; and that thing short 
and simple. Putting the word done opposite a purpose is a 
wonderful incentive to a large achievement in the next at- 
tempt. 

3. Buy a dictionary, an atlas, and, if possible, a cyclopaedia. 
If you have not the money make over an old bonnet. No 
harm will be done if it cultivates a habit of making over 
old bonnets. If a gentleman, dispense with cigars for a year. 
No harm will be done if this cultivates a habit of dispensing 
with cigars. If this does not supply the increasing demand for 
increasing facilities try some other economies. I visited not 
long since the home of one of the most eminent of America's 
youngest astronomers. He lived in a little box of a house, in 
an out-of-the-way street, with not an easy chair in the house. 
But his wife had a fine piano, and he a microscope that cost 
him $300. Equipped with dictionary and atlas, never pass a 
word the meaning of which you do not know ; the name of a 
place the location of which you have not fixed ; or reference 
to an event which you do not comprehend. In invading a new 
territory never leave an unconquered garrison behind you. 



HINTS FOR PEOPLE THAT DO NOT READ. 91 

Theme and tools selected, it still remains to secure time. 
For the best advantage this should be regular, systematic, un- 
interrupted. The early hours are the best ; when the brain is 
fresh and the mind alert. To the mind and body trained for 
it, half an hour before breakfast is worth an hour and a half 
after supper. But this requires an opportunity to shut out in- 
trusion which perhaps the housekeeper cannot secure ; facil- 
ity to shut out the more subtle intrusion of thick on-coming 
crowd of cares, which only a stalwart power of concentration 
can secure. Some cannot lock the door of the library ; oth- 
ers cannot lock the door of the mind. But if time cannot be 
taken at one hour seize it from another ; if it cannot be 
taken with regularity take it when chance offers. The black- 
smith's forge is not a convenient desk ; but it was at the 
blacksmith's forge, blowing the bellows with one hand and 
holding a book with the other, that Elihu Burritt learned his 
first languages. The nursery is not the place one would 
choose for astronomical calculations ; but it was in the 
nursery, beset by her children, whom she never neglected, 
and interrupted by callers whom she rarely refused, that Mary 
Somerville wrought out her " Mechanism of the Heavens," 
which elected her an honorary member of the Royal Astro- 
nomical Society, and put her in the first rank of the scientists 
of her day. A cue at the post-ofiice is not the ideal place for 



92 LYMAN ABBOTT. 

study ; but it was as an errand boy at Amsterdam, standing in 
the long line of boys at the post-office, often in the rain, book 
in hand, that Dr. Schliemann laid the foundation of his future 
career as the great Greek explorer of the century. Where 
there is a will there is a way. He or she that can find no time 
for study has little real heart for it. 



XII 

A SYMPOSIUM. 
By Many Contributors. 

WHEN the original series of articles from which this 
book is composed had drawn to its close, the edi- 
tors of The Christian Union invited the readers generally to 
send brief hints evolved out of their own experience in the use 
of books. A great number of replies to the six questions sug- 
gested were received, from which the following hints are se- 
lected. 

In making the selection we have culled from many letters 
and postal cards various hints, often repeating each other, 
which we have reported as nearly as possible in the words of 
one or another of our correspondents and classified under the 
six questions editorially presented in The Christian Union. 
When there were inconsistent suggestions from the different 
quarters we have reported them both, leaving our readers to 

choose between them. 

93 



94 



BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 



I. How TO SELECT BOOKS : 

Rummage the book-stores and the libraries. 

Read the book notices in the best literary papers — such as 
The Christia7i Union, New York Tribu7ie, Springfield Republi- 
can, Literary World, the New York Nation, and the London 
Spectator. 

Choose books that can be held without tiring the hands or 
wrists. 

Cheerful bindings but plain. Gilt grows tawdry. 

For home reading begin with books to please and instruct 
children. 

Get what you want, when you want it. 

Get the judgment of a friend who knows your character and 
literary tastes and aspirations. 

2. How TO TAKE CARE OF BOOKS : 

Get good editions well bound. 

Cover them with strong brown paper ; for large and fine 
books linen, neatly sewed on, is still better. 

Have book-shelves for them ; a place for every book and 
every book in its place. 

Do not have doors to your cases ; they are in the way. 

Doors are essential to protect the books from dust. Should 
be wood, or lined if made of glass. The sun fades the 
bindings. 



A SYMPOSIUM. 95 

Be careful to whom you lend. 
Use carefully. 

Read frequently. Neglect is the great despoiler. Better 
wear out than rust out. 

3. What to read : 
Masterpieces only. 
By subjects always. 

That which you are deficient in and most need. 
What you are most interested in. 

What you have recently heard about and want to know about. 
A variety. Do not weary yourself over one kind of books ; 
mingle biography, travels, history, fiction, etc. 

Never read a book that is not worth reading twice. 

Read books that furnish mental food and mental stimulus. 

4. How AND WHEN TO READ I 

Systematically. Do not run from one subject to another. 

Slowly. Never give more time to reading a book than to 
reflecting upon its contents. 

Never try to read when it is laborious ; the memory will not 
retain it. One hour when fresh is worth three when tired. 

Solid reading, for instruction, when fresh ; light reading 
for entertainment, slowly, easily, lazily, when tired. 

In the early morning hours, say from five to eight — premising 
that you go to bed at half-past nine. 



96 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

Whenever you can get a chance — except at night when you 
ought to be asleep. 

In the evenings : get your husband to read to you. 

I read at any time : when waiting for the pot to boil ; when 
waiting for the lords of creation to come to dinner. 

Always read with an atlas and dictionary. 

Have books about you : employ the spare moments. You 
will be surprised how much can be accomplished in odd 
moments usually thrown away. 

Persevere. Tenacity and application are almost omnipo- 
tent. 

5. How TO PRESERVE THE RESULTS OF READING. 

Reflect on your reading. Read thoughtfully. 

Write as you read. Make abstracts of your author. 

Read with a pencil in hand ; mark all important passages 
and index them by reference on the fly-leaf at the end. Then 
re-read the marked passages : — Joseph Cook's way. 

Keep a book of choice extracts : copy into it choice marked 
extracts. 

Re-read. 

Fasten your knowledge by frequent geographical, historical 
and biographical references. 

Read no more at a time than you can hold. 

Discuss your reading or criticise it with others who have 



A SYMPOSIUM. 07 

read the same. If a person after reading a book lays it down 
without comment, it does not amount to much. 

Rigorously compel yourself to give an analysis of what you 
read ; not by pen, but by mental process. 

6. How TO INTEREST CHILDREN IN GOOD BOOKS. 

Put before them only good books ; keep bad and indifferent 
books away. 

Watch for and encourage their own good selections. Tell 
them stories and then send them to the books where the 
stories are to be found. 

Read with them. 

Have good books about the house and no others. Read them 
yourself and talk them over. 

Give your children at first simple and interesting books, 
then something better. 

READING CLUBS. 

It has been truly said, " The art of reading consists in know- 
ing what to leave out." How shall we learn this art ? My 
eight-year-old boy said to me the other day, with a short sigh, 
" Mamma, I think I have too many books ; you had better put 
some away." I saw he had begun the conflict which all of us 
who like books have experienced. With all who read intelli- 
gently, each book suggests many others. The field of vision 
enlarges till it passes the bonds of our horizon and a numb 



98 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

feeling of despair comes over us. For women, who have lives 
full of interruption, what is left to do ? Nothing but to take all 
crumbs that fall, eagerly feeding the hunger within upon the 
best one may obtain. Papers, magazines, books that may be 
snatched up and dropped again, filling passing moments of 
time, are nearly all a housekeeper and mother can hope for, 
unless she has the good fortune to have a husband who will 
read aloud. 

Then, there are organizations. For two years or more seven 
or eight of these busy woman of us have met for two hours on 
one morning of each week for reading in French. It is diffi- 
cult to brush aside the complications around us, but profitable. 
We read important books, not light novels. We think we owe 
this to ourselves and to our children, and if we did not do it, 
undoubtedly we would lose all we ever knew of French. Out 
of this grew an evening Shakespeare club limited in number 
to about twenty-four members, reading in parts aloud. This, 
in its third winter, is vigorous and lively, increasing in interest 
with original essays, selections and historical facts bearing 
upon the play of the evening. Small organizations are a great 
help in inspiring, suggesting and selecting reading. 

HOW A BUSY MAN READS. 

Being engaged in "keeping store," both day and evening, 
I have but little time for reading ; yet I have surprised 



A SYMPOSIUM. 99 

myself by using spare moments at home. A few moments 
in the morning, at noon, at supper time, and in the even- 
ing before bedtime, will do wonders when made subservient 
to a will and a passion for literature. 

I have used with much profit Professor Porter's " Books 
and Reading," Putnam's "Best Reading" (with Fred. Per- 
kins' excellent hints), and Emerson's essay on "Books." 
Porter's book should be in the hands of every true lover of 
books. I find the "American Bookseller," published semi- 
monthly by the American News Co., a very valuable guide 
to current literature. A good feature of the " Bookseller " 
is that it permits its subscribers to advertise free for books 
wanted, thus enabling one to find books " out of print," 
and often works at very low prices. 

The " Publishers' Weekly," published by F. Leypoldt, in 
New York, gives very full information about all matters in 
the book-world, and the " Library Companion," issued quarterly 
by the publishers of this volume, gives, at the noniinal price 
of 50 cents a year, priced and classified lists of the most im- 
portant English and American publications of each quarter, to 
which are added brief characterizations or descriptions of the 
books mentioned. The " Library Companion " forms a quar- 
terly and annual supplement to Putnam's " Best Reading." The 
Putnams also publish " The Literary News," which is issued 



lOO BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

monthly, and which contains full lists of the publications of 
each month, and reviews and descriptions of the more im- 
portant. 

I use Putnam's "World's Progress," Hadyn's "Dictionary 
of Dates," Webster's Unabridged, Chambers's Encyclopaedia, 
Hale and Wheeler's " Brief Biographies," a geography, and 
Bartlett's "Familiar Quotations." I am indebted to Fred. 
Perkins for my discovery of a number of these valuable 
reference books. 

In the book I am reading I keep note paper, where I jot 
down everything I do not understand — even words about 
whose pronunciation I am uncertain. This seems tedious 
and painstaking, but I know it pays. I refer these words,, 
terms, names or phrases to reference books or to some his-" 
tory where I may be likely to find them. For instance : I 
did not know all about the Ohio Company spoken of in 
Bancroft's " United States," whereupon I turned to Dillon's 
" Indiana " and found the desired information. 

I find it a splendid practice to illuminate any historical 
period I have been passing over with a good historical 
novel. Thus, Scott's " Woodstock " for Cromwell's time ; 
** Kenilworth " for the days of Elizabeth, Raleigh, Shakes- 
peare, and for alchemy and astrology. What historical novel 
can match Thackeray's " Virginians " for a fine picture of 



A SYMPOSIUM. lOl 

the days just previous to our Independence, or for the vices 
of court, state and church in England prior to Wesley. 

I index my books with pencil on the fly-leaves. What- 
ever strikes me as noteworthy I index. I find I have in- 
dexed Scott's and Thackeray's novels almost as fully as I 
have Bancroft or Rawlinson or Wilkinson. 

From books that 1 cannot afford to buy I copy what I 
need — that is, if the books are obtainable from our excel- 
lent Public Library. 

I put away ten cents a day for books ! This allowance is 
beggarly when compared with expenditures by a vast majority 
of young men for worthless and transient pleasures. As I 
am in a position to buy books at wholesale I find this al- 
lowance increases my library rapidly. 

Keeping a commonplace book for opinions of your books 

is a profitable practice ; or, it is a good idea, I find, to 

write one's opinion of a volume on the fly-leaves at end of 

volume. Ed. Iliff. 

. Richmond, Ind., Feb. lo, 1880. 

A mother's experience. 

I give my children plenty of good reading, and they utterly 

refuse bad when offered by companions. My oldest — a boy of 

fourteen — is hungry for history, biography and natural history. 

I believe it is because I read such things with him when he 



I02 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

was no more than eight, and from that time on, using a map 
and dictionary a great deal, and letting him see me using a cy- 
clopaedia and explaining the reason why I used it. Abbott's 
(Jacob) juvenile books hold a large place in the children's 
library. I read the best things in the newspapers aloud and 
we talk about them, and they thus learn to discriminate for 
themselves. When a child has history referred to in a geogra- 
phy lesson we get the history and read more about it. 

Mater. 
reading under difficulties. 
I am a printer by occupation ; am twenty-three years of age ; 
and just grown into the hungry period of my life — knowledge- 
hungry. Have little time to read but in evening. Love to 
read history of any and all kinds, from Goodrich's " History of 
all Nations," down to historical scraps of noted men, and bio- 
graphical anecdotes and characteristics in the newspapers. Of 
course I keep a strict watch on politics the while. Dickens 
sandwiches in between delightfully. By constant proximity of 
dictionary and Pierce's " Cottage Cyclopedia of History and 
Biography " I am gaining a good knowledge of words and the 
characters of history. 
Buffalo. Feb. 8. 1880. Charles C. Roosa. 

A FAMILY READING CLUB. 

Ours was a family of nine. At least three evenings each 



A SYMPOSIUM. 103 

week all (or nearly all) were gathered in a room to read and 
listen, taking turns in reading, first, such reading as was adapt- 
ed to the younger members, consisting of stories, travel, the 
best publications for the young, the various " Young Folks " 
columns in our newspapers — say one hour given to them ; the 
next, works of fiction, science, biography ; secular and religious 
papers ; the several " monthlies ; " reviews of books and ser- 
mons, etc. No one was allowed to read to wearisomeness. 
Frequently an interruption and explanation and discussion were 
had. Any word not fully understood was looked up in " Web- 
ster " by one not reading. 

H. W. Gilbert. 

Fulton, N. Y., Feb. 7, 1880. 

TO GET CHILDREN TO READ. 

"To get children to read good books," I put them into 
the infant Sunday-school at four years ; read to them the 
little papers and cards they get there ; read or relate to 
them Bible stories and others, as being contained in books 
where they can find many more, I tell them, as soon as they 
have learned to read. This begets a desire to learn how to 
read. Then I teach them (that is, my " better-half " does) to 
read the Bible before they are sent to school. I find that 
then, after school, with a Bible always in the sitting-room, as 
the book they have first learned to read in, they will pick it up 
as a playmate and read its stories for amusement. A little 



I04 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

later, I give them free range through those "yarns" so broad 
there is no danger of their believing them — " Crusoe," " Ara- 
bian Nights " and "Gulliver's Travels." I then find no trou- 
ble in engaging children, of nine to twelve years, in history, 
travel and biography written for them, especially if I talk, or 
rather get them to talk about the contents and let them teach 
me some new facts. A boy of ten years who cannot be in- 
duced to sit down and eat up Dickens' " Child's History of 
England," Abbott's volumes of early American history, etc., 
has one or two parents at fault. I keep them clear of bad 
books and supplied with good ones ; I use a public library 
and make their selections — books in which they take such in- 
terest that they put faith in my choice. They never see a 
"Dime Novel," " Ledger," etc., and, so far as possible, I keep 
them from children likely to read " trash." Familiar science I 
read to them in mild doses. I read to a boy of eight, parts of 
Winchell's " Sketches of Creation," with running comments, 
and he had so much to tell his playmates that they thought 
him a prodigy ; but almost any child would feed on the same. 
At ten that boy has read all the books here favorably men- 
tioned for children ; and, among others, Taylor's " Boys of 
Other Countries," Bonner's, Coffin's and Higginson's United 
States history books, " Swiss Family Robinson," " Tales from 
Shakespeare," some of Abbott's "American Pioneers," Stan- 



A SYMPOSIUM. 105 

ley's " Dark Continent," etc., etc. ; his sister of fourteen, much 
more in that line, and on into the affectionate reading of 
Rolfe's edition of Shakespeare's plays. And from these I 
select some of their school declamations. I calculate that in 
their taste for good literature these children are grounded safe. 
EvANSTON, III. J. C. Ambrose. 

SHAKESPEARE FOR CHILDREN. 

Arrange the evening readings around the library table with 
more reference to the special needs of children. There are 
certain grounds in literature on which parent and child can 
meet in common. Take, for instance, certain portions of 
Bancroft's " United States " — those parts which describe the 
early settlement and exploration of our country ; you will 
find that they hold alike the attention of young and old. Try, 
also^ bits of Parkman's series, ** Pioneers of France in the 
New World," "The Jesuits in North America in the Seven- 
teenth Century," "The Discovery of the Great West," "The 
Old Regime in Canada," and then go on to anecdotes of later 
American history. Supplement theoutlines of English history 
with striking fragments from Walter Scott's novels ; they will 
serve better than anything else to fix certain historical facts on 
the childish memory. These are but hints ; it is easy to go on 
when one has once begun. 

In reading for young children never forget that you are to 



Io6 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

act as interpreter between them and an author. Simplify as 
you go along, substituting an easy word for a hard one, a short 
one for a long one, and omitting at discretion, but always 
trying for the best word you can muster at such short notice, 
and striving always to keep the writer's style as unmutilated 
as possible. In this way there is but little good reading 
which you cannot bring within grasp of the childish under- 
standing. 

There is Shakespeare ! the greatest name in all literature. 
At first thought his writings seem a great way removed from 
the youthful comprehension ; and yet my own experience has 
proved that it is possible so to interpret him that even a little 
child may appropriate him. 

Take, for instance, " The Tempest," which is nothing more 
nor less than one of the most bewitching fairy tales ever writ- 
ten, quite as wonderful as anything of Hans Christian Ander- 
sen's, or of the brothers Grimm, or in the " Arabian Nights." 
Here you will find a witch, a sorceress, a magician with his 
wand, a deformed monster, a cruel and treacherous king, fair- 
ies of the woods and sea, a powerful spirit of the air, a beauti- 
ful princess, a brave and handsome prince. It only needs a 
little ingenuity to make this fairy tale of Shakespeare's a prime 
favorite with the children. I know from experience, for I have 
tried it myself, writing it out in prose in the " once-upon-a-time " 



A SYMPOSIUM. 107 

Style. It is the one story which my little seven-year-old boy 
never tires of hearing over and over. It is the one story 
for which my child-friends ask again and again. I should 
like to try it with some of the bright young readers of The 
Christian Union if it were only possible ; I am sure they would 
want to know more about this wonderful Shakespeare and 
his writings. 

By all means read Irving with the children. Among Amer- 
ican writers he is the one who takes strongest hold on the 
childish imagination. His clear, limpid style is good training 
for the young ear, and one will be amazed at the quick appre- 
ciation these little ones show of his quaint humor. Did you 
ever see the child that could resist the charms of his " Rip 
Van Winkle," or '' Legend of Sleepy Hollow ? " They are the 
best of fairy tales. 

A child's love of the marvelous and exciting is like his crav- 
ing for candy and sweetmeats ; it is a taste that cannot be 
ignored. You must indulge it wisely. Cater to it with some 
of Irving's "Tales of a Traveller," or selections from his 
" Sketch Book," and with wholesome stories of travel and ad- 
venture. Then, as an offset to this stimulating reading, make 
them familiar with such exquisite, tender sketches as " Rab 
and his Friends " and " Marjorie Fleming." It only needs a 
trial of them to prove their fitness for this work. 



Io8 BY MANY CONTRIBUTORS. 

It is easy to get children to read good books. It only needs 

a little ingenuity, a little painstaking, a little giving up of time 

and pleasure on the part of us who are parents. 

Truly yours, 

Emma H. Demerit. 
New Canaan, Fairfield Co., Conn. 



SUGGESTIONS 

FOR 

HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES 

BY 

GEORGE PALMER PUTNAM 

REVISED AND ENLARGED 

Together with priced lists of suggested selections of 500, l.cxx) and 2,000 
volumes of the most desirable and important books. 



GOOD BOOK 

IS THE PRECIOUS LIFK~ 

BLOOD OF A MASTER SPIRIT, 

EMBALMED AND TREASURED* UP OM 

PURPOSE TO A LIFE BEYOND LIFE."— iJ////tflfe 

" SOME BOOKS ARE TO BE TASTED, 

OTHERS TO BE SWALLOWED, AND 

SOME FEW TO BE CHEWED 

AND DIGESTED."— 



SUGGESTIONS 

FOR 

HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



EVERY head of a family, it may be presumed, in this 
period of general intelligence, is desirous to possess 
for his wife, his children, and for himself, a certain number of 
well-selected books. A book-case is, in fact, an indispensable 
article of furniture. All have books of some kind or other. 
How shall they be best chosen, and purchased to the best ad- 
vantage ? 

The ordinary condition under which the books in a house are 
brought together, may be described as a chance-medley. They 
are selected on no system, and, consequently, when the imme- 
diate occasion of their perusal has gone by, have very little 
value. A few old novels which have had their hour, a book of 
sermons of the preacher in vogue, a broken set of a magazine, a 
few waifs and strays picked up in charity from itinerants, or from 
fairs, with, perhaps, a half-dozen leathery old heirlooms, from 
which the best of housekeepers cannot keep the dust ; these, for 

III 



112 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

the most part, in many families, fill the household book-shelf. 
What a different story is told in a glance at the well-constructed 
book-case of a gentleman or lady, who has given a little of the 
attention to the choice of its contents which would be bestowed 
upon the selections of the pattern of a window-curtain or a sofa ! 
Yet books are the most telling furniture which can be placed 
in a room. Every visitor of intelligence is immediately, irre- 
sistibly attracted to the perusal of their titles ; and an opinion 
is formed at once, from them, of the taste and cultivation of 
the family. Pictures and engravings are becoming generally 
appreciated, and next to a picture on a wall, in point of interest 
and effect, is the book on the centre-table or the shelf. How 
deplorable and chilling a dull collection ! The reader may re- 
call the anecdote of Dr. Johnson at the house of the eminent 
virtuoso, Mr. Cambridge. He was there one day, in company 
with Sir Joshua Reynolds, and had no sooner, says Boswell, 
made his bow, than he ran eagerly to one side of the room to 
inspect the books on the shelves. " He runs to the books," said 
the artist, "as I do to the pictures." There he was gratified, 
for his host was a man of exquisite taste. How cheerful and 
inviting the friendly names of good authors and long established 
favorities, the Walter Scotts, Maria Edgeworths, Washington 
Irvings, and Macaulays, reviving a hundred pleasing recol- 
lections of past enjoyment, as you approach them ! A man, 
says the old proverb, is known by his companions. How true 
is this of the companions of our better hours of ease and re- 
tirement, the volumes which we keep at hand, the solace and 
amusement of our cares, the impulses of our noble actions I 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 1 I3 

All persons, we have no doubt, would have a choice collection 
of books in preference to a comparatively indifferent and val- 
ueless one. But all have not the time or opportunity to make 
the selection. It is not an easy thing to make a tasteful gath- 
ering of any objects— the plants for your garden, the china for 
your table, the clothing for yourself or your children— in fine, of 
whatever is thrust before us in heaps, the common and worthless 
of course preponderating. There is money enough spent an- 
nually in the country upon tasteless and absolutely offensive 
things to purchase articles of the highest taste and value. 

It is not the cost of the good article which is so much the 
difficulty, as the not knowing how to procure it. 

The attempt has here been made to present in three lists, 
the first comprising 500, the second an additional 500, and the 
third 1,000 volumes, the titles of those books which are con- 
sidered, on the whole, the most essential and desirable for the 
family library and for the use of the student of general litera- 
ture. 

It is not likely that the opinions of any one of our readers 
will be fully in accord with our own as to all the works speci- 
fied in these lists. Some will criticise the proportion of space 
allotted to the respective divisions of History, Biography, 
Fiction, Poetry, etc. Others will complain that some favorite 
work, which in their opinion certainly belonged in the first list, 
has been relegated to the second or third, or, horribile diciu, 
has been omitted altogether. 

We can only say that our lists are suggestions, not dictations, 
and that we admit frankly it would be both absurd and use- 



114 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

less to attempt to present any selection from the vast mass of 
English literature that would be either perfect in itself, or 
which would be accepted as perfect by any two readers. We 
claim merely that these three selections have been prepared 
with care and judgment, and the two thousand volumes com- 
prised in them are believed to include the most essential and 
desirable works in general literature. 

Theological works, scientific books for speciaHsts, and chil- 
dren's books have not been included. 

The first list specifies 500 volumes of books deemed most 
desirable, on the whole, for a collection limited to that extent. 
It is intended to suggest those that are most comprehensive 
and useful, and most accessible in their several spheres. Thus 
books of reference covering the whole range of human knowl- 
edge are first mentioned. Then the most essential works on 
general and local history and in representative biography — 
such as occupy the most important ground, and are the most 
desirable in case the collection remains unenlarged. Then the 
list mentions such books in general literature as would usually 
be selected by persons of good taste and sound judgment. 

Of course such a list is arbitrary and subject to change 
according to varied tastes or previous acquisitions ; but we 
only aim to indicate an outline plan^ with reference to propor- 
tion, fitness and availability — leaving details to be adjusted 
according to circumstances. 

The second list contains a similar proportion of essential 
titles in the several departments, as they are deemed most de- 
sirable to supplement the selection first given, while in the 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. II5 

third list of one thousand volumes it is planned to supple- 
ment the first two lists, and to present with them a collection 
of two thousand volumes fairly complete as well in works 
of fact and information as in those of imagination and recre- 
ation. 

Neither one or all of these lists would provide for all the 
requirements of a literary or other professional man ; the pres- 
ent suggestions simply refer to such volumes as are adapted 
for family reading and reference, or for social or village 
libraries. 

It is claimed that these lists have been prepared with strict 
impartiality, so far as the interests of any publishers or au- 
thors are concerned. They aim to present works that would 
be selected by a person of taste, untrammelled by any special 
interests. 

The publishers' retail prices are given as nearly as practica- 
ble, and while in a few cases where a portion only of an au- 
thor's works are recommended, these prices may not be exact 
per volume, they will be found to be fairly correct for any 
given number of works. 

A collection of fifty volumes of useful and desirable books, 
in economical and compact editions, is given at the close of 
the main lists. 

In selling books by quantities, and in selling books to libra- 
ries, a reduction is made by all booksellers from these retail 
prices, and the publishers of this volume have for many years 
made a specialty of the business of purchasing books for 
public and private libraries at such special reductions. 



Il6 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

Fuller priced and classified lists of English and American 
publications will be found in the manual published by them, 
entitled "The Best Reading," and in the quarterly supplement 
to this, "The Library Companion," (see advertisement on 
cover.) 



SUGGESTIONS FOR 
HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES 



1 


8- 


5 50 


I 


8° 


3 00 


I 


12" 


I 75 


2 


8" 


9 00 


2 


4° 


33 00 


8 




70 00 



FIRST LIST 

A library of 500 volumes of the most essential books in the best inex- 
pensive editions. {Exclusive of Religious works, books for specialists and 
books for children.) 

Works of Reference, Cyclopaedias, etc. 

Anthon. Classical Dictionary. 

Bartlett. Familiar Quotations. 

Best Reading, The, a Classified Bibliography. 

Chambers. Cyclopaedia of English Literature. 

Duyckinck. Cyclopaedia of American Literature. 

Johnson. Universal Cyclopaedia. 

or Appleton. American Cyclopaedia. 16 vols., 8° $8000 

or Chambers, Cyclopaedia, Edin. 10 vols., $25 00 
Lippincott. Pronouncing Gazetteer of the World, (edi- 
tion of 1880) 
Library Atlas, The, Ancient, Historical and Modern. 
Putnam. World's Progress, or Cyclopaedia of Historic 

Facts. 
Smith. Condensed Dictionary of the Bible. 

(or further abridged) i vol., 8" $3 00 
Thomas. Dictionary of Biography. 
Webster. Dictionary of the English Language, 

revision of 1880 

or Worcester. Diet, of the Eng. Lang, i vol., 8° $10 00 

117 



8" 


10 GO 


8" 


JO GO 


8° 


4 50 


8' 


4 50 



8" 



Il8 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

History. 

Ancient. 

Duncker. History of Antiquity. 
Greece, Cox, General History of 

History of, by Curtis. 

Rawlinson. Origin of Nations. 
Rome Ancient, History of, by Arnold. 

Roman Empire, Decline and Fall of, by Gibbon. 

The Jews, History of, by Milman. 

Middle Ages. 

Europe during the Middle Ages, by Hallam. 

Freeman. General Sketch of European History 
England. 

England to 1688, by Hume. Best ed. 

From 1688 to 1702, by Macaulay. 

or better edition. 5 vols., 8° $10 00 

Green, Shorter History of. 

A History of Our Own Times. McCarthy. 

France. 

France, History of, by Guizot. 

Continuation by Martin, (brings it down to 1879.) 

The Revolution of 1789, by Michelet. 

Germany. 

Germany, History of, by Lewis, i 8° 2 00 

Holland. 

The Rise of the Dutch Republic, by Motley. 

History of the United Netherlands, by Motley. 
United States. 

Tocqueville, de. Democracy in America. 

United States, History of, by Bryant and Gay. 

General Popular History of, by Lossing. 

History of American Civil War, by Draper. 

Biography. 
General. 

Alfred the Great, by Hughes. 

Book of Golden Deeds. (Golden Treasury.) 



4 


8° 


21 CO 


I 


12° 


2 50 


5 


12° 


12 50 


I 


12° 


I 50 


I 


8° 


3 00 


6 


8° 


12 00 


3 


12° 


5 25 


3 


12° 


5 25 


I 


16° 


I 40 


6 


8° 


12 GO 


4 


12° 


6 GO 


I 


8° 


I 75 


2 


12° 


2 50 


6 


8' 


33 00 


3 


8° 


16 50 


I 


12° 


I 4G 



3 


8° 


6 00 


4 


8° 


8 GO 


2 


8° 


5 00 


4 


8" 


24 GO 


I 


8° 


5 50 


3 


8° 


10 50 


I 


12° 


I 50 


I 


16° 


I 25 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. II9 

Cicero, by Forsyth. i 8° ^ 50 

Columbus, by Irving. 3 16 3 75 

or abridged edition. I vol., 12° $i 75 
Creasy. Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World. 112° I 50 

Cromwell, by Carlyle. r vol., 16° gocts. 
English Men of Letters. Edited by John Morley. Com- 
prising Johnson, Gibbon, Scott, Shelley, Hume, Gold- 
smith, Defoe, Burns, Spenser, Thackeray, Burke, 
Milton. 12 12° 9 00 

Epochs of History Series. 16 16° 16 00 

Comprising- The Era of the Protestant Revolution; The 
Crusades ; The Thirty Year's War 1618-1648 ; The Houses of 
Lancaster and York with the Conquest and Loss of France ; 
Edward III ; The Age of Elizabeth ; The Fall of the Stuarts 
and Western Europe from 1678 to 1697 ; The First Two Stuarts 
and the Puritan Revolution, 1603-1660; The War of American 
Independence ; The Early Plantagenets ; The Age of Anne ; 
The Normans in Europe ; Frederick the Great and the Seven 
Years War ; The French Revolution and the Wars that came 
of it, 1787-1815 ; The Beginning of the Middle Ages ; Charles 
the Great and Alfred ; the History of England in its connection 
with that of Europe in the 9th century ; The Eariy Times of 
Modern Europe to the Beginning of the Middle Ages. 
Each volume sold separately. 
Franklin. Autobiography. 
Johnson, by Boswell. 
Johnson. Lives of the Poets (abridged) 
New Plutarch Series, The. Edited by Walter Bessant, 
Comprising Lincoln, Coligny, Judas Maccabaeus, Joan 
of Arc ; Haroun al Raschid, Charlemagne, Victor 
Emanuel. Sir Frances Drake, etc. 8 16° 8 00 

Plutarch's Lives, ed. Clough. I 8° 3 00 

Smiles. Self Help. I 12° i 50 

Washington, by Irving. 5 l6° 6 25 

or condensed edition. I vol., 12° $2 50 

Travel and Description. 

America. 

Baldwin. Ancient America. 18 2 00 

Dodge. The Plains of the Great West and their Inhabi- 
tants. I 8° 3 50 



3 


12° 


4 50 


5 


12° 


8 00 


I 


12° 


2 00 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



King. Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada. 
Parkman. Discovery of the Great West. 
Africa and the East. 
Kinglake. Eothen. 
Layard, Nineveh, abridged edition. 
Speke. Sources of the Nile. 
Stanley. Sinai and Palestine. 

EUROPF.. 

Hawthorne. Our Old Home. (England.) 

Howells. Italian Journeys. 

Taylor. Views Afoot. 

Wallace. Russia. 

Warner's Saunterings. 
General. 

Dana. Two Years Before the Mast. 
General Literature. 

Addison. Works edited by Greene ; 

or, Selections, edited by Habberton. 2 vols., i6° $2 25 

Agassiz. Methods of Study in Natural History. 

Ancient Classics for English Readers, edited by Collins. 
Comprising translations and studies of Homer, Hero- 
dotus, ^schylus, Xenophon, Virgil, Sophocles, Cicero, 
Csesar, Euripides, Aristophanes, Horace and Juvenal, 
Pliny, Ovid, Demosthenes, Aristotle, Plato and Tacitus. : 

Bacon (Lord). Essays ; 

or with notes by Lewis Heard. 

Carlyle. Essays. 

Clodd. Childhood of the World. 

Craik. History of English Literature. 

De Quincey. Works. (Part.) (See List IL) 

Disraeli. Curiosities of Literature. 

Draper. Litellectual Development of Europe. 

Eggleston. How to Educate Yourself. 

Emerson. Prose works. 

Epictetus. 

Froude. Short Studies on Great Subjects. (See List II.) 

Goethe. Works. 



I 12° 


2 00 


I 8° 


2 50 


I 12° 


I 75 


I 8" 


2 00 


I S" 


4 00 


I 8° 


2 50 


I 16° 


1 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 8° 


4 00 


I 16° 


I 25 



I 50 

9 00 
I 75 






12 


15 00 


I 


16° 


I 25 


I 


8° 


2 25 


4 


12° 


7 50 


I 


16° 


I 25 


2 


8° 


5 00 


6 


12° 


10 00 


4 


12° 


7 00 


2 


12° 


3 00 


I 


16° 


50 


3 


12° 


7 50 


I 


8° 


2 50 


2 


12*' 


3 00 


8 


12° 


II 25 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Goldsmith. Works edited by Prior. 

Hallam. European Literature. 

Hamerton. Intellectual Life. 

Hawthorne. Works. (Less volumes already given in 

Travel. ) 
Hood. Works. 

or best edition. 7 vols., 12" $14 00 
Holmes. Prose Works. 
Irving. Works, (except Historical and Biographical given 

under those Headings). (See also List II.) 
Lamb, Chas. Works. 

Lewes. Biographical History of Philosophy. 
Longfellow. Prose Works. 
Lowell. Prose Works. 
Macaulay. Essays. 
Maine. Early History of Institutions. 
Mill. On Liberty, and Subjection of Women. 

Principles of Political Economy. 

Representative Government. 

Montaigne. Essays. 

Nordhoff. Politics for Young Americans. 

Pascal. Thoughts and Letters. 

Plato. Republic. 

Poe. Works. 

Richter. Fruit, Flower and Thorn Pieces. 

Ruskin. Modern Painters. 

Smiles. Character. 

Stedman. Victorian Poets. 

Taylor, Bayard. German Literature. 

Thackeray, Works. 

Tyler, M. C. American Literature. 

Youmans. Correlation of Forces. 

Fiction. 

Arabian Nights. 
Austen, Jane. Novels. 
Bronte, Charlotte. Novels. 
Bulwer. The Caxton Novels. 



4 


12° 


6 00 


4 


12° 


7 00 


I 


12° 


2 00 


10 


32° 


12 50 


2 


12° 


6 00 



13 


16' 


17 25 


5 


12" 


7 50 


I 


8° 


3 50 


3 


16° 


6 75 


3 


12° 


6 00 


3 


12" 


3 75 


I 


8° 


3 50 


I 


12° 


2 50 


2 


8° 


4 00 


I 


12° 


2 50 


4 


12° 


7 50 


I 


12° 


I 50 


2 


12° 


4 50 


I 


16° 


I 25 


4 


12° 


7 50 


2 


16° 


2 00 


4 


12° 


10 00 


I 


12° 


I 25 


I 


12" 


2 50 


1 


12° 


2 25 


12 


12" 


15 00 


2 


S" 


6 00 


I 


12° 


2 00 


I 


12° 


I 50 


4 


12° 


5 00 


4 


12° 


5 00 



6 00 



122 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Bunyan. Pilgrim Progress. 

Cervantes. Don Quixote. 

Cooper. Novels. (Part.) 

Curtis. Potiphar Papers, 

Defoe. Robinson Crusoe. 

Dickens. Novels. 

Edgeworth. Novels. 

Eliot, George. Novels. 

Foque. Undine and Sintram. 

Gaskell. Novels, (Part.) (See List II.) 

Goldsmith. The Vicar of Wakefield. 

Hugo. Les Miserables. 

Kingsley, Charles. Novels. (Part.) (See List II.) 

Muloch. Novels. (Part.) (See List II.) 

Oliphant. Novels. (Part.) 

Reade, Charles. Novels. (Part.) (See List II.) 

Saintine. Picciola. 

Scott, Walter. Novels. 

Stowe, Uncle Tom's Cabin. 

Taylor, Bayard. Novels. (Part.) (See List II.) 

Tautphoeus. Novels. 

Thackeray, Miss. Novels. (Part.) 

W^are. Zenobia. 

Poetry and Drama. 

Browning, Robt. Earlier Works. 

Browning, Mrs. 

Bryant. 

Burns. 

Campbell. 

Coleridge. 

Cowper. 

Dana. Household Book of Poetry. 

Dante. Translated by Longfellow. 

Emerson. 

Gray. 

Goethe's Faust. Translated by Taylor. 

Goethe's Poems. Translated by Bowring. 



I 
I 

i6 

I 
I 

15 

10 

10 

I 

3 
I 
I 

4 
4 

3 
6 
I 

25 

I 

3 
4 
3 

I 

6 

2 



12 
12° 
16° 
12' 
12" 
12° 
12° 
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12° 
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12° 

8° 

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8° 

32° 

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I 25 
I 25 

16 GO 

I 50 

I 25 

22 50 

15 00 

12 50 

I 25 

4 50 

I 25 
50 
GO 
00 
50 
50 

1 25 
25 00 

2 00 

4 50 
7 00 

3 75 
2 00 



9 00 

4 GO 

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I 50 
1 50 

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1 50 
I 00 

4 50 
I 40 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



123 



Herbert. i 


12 


2 00 


Holmes. i 


12" 


2 00 


Homer. Translated by Bryant. 2 


16° 


4 50 


Longfellow. 3 


12° 


2 00 


Lowell. 1 


12° 


2 00 


Milton. J 


12° 


1 50 


Palgrave. Golden Treasury. 1 


16° 


I 25 


Parton. Collection of Humorous Poetry. 


8° 


3 00 


Pope. 


[ 12° 


I 50 


Schiller. Translated by Bowring. 


I 12° 


I 40 


Scott. 


[ T2° 


I 50 


Shakespeare. Complete. Edited by Hudson. 1 


2 12° 


15 00 


Spenser. Select Poems. 


I 12° 


I 75 


Tennyson. 


I 12° 


2 00 


Whittier. 


I 12° 


2 00 


Wordsworth. 


I 12° 


I 50 



SECOND LIST 



Forming an additional library of 500 volumes, recommended as the next 
most desirable aud important. 

Cyclopaedias, etc. 

Allibone. Dictionary of Authors. 

Chambers. Book of Days. 

Clarke. Concordance to Shakespeare. 

Cruden. Concordance to the Bible. 

Drake. Dictionary of American Biography. 

* Encyclopaedia Britannica. : 

Haydn. Dictionary of Dates, with American Supplement. 

Smith. Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and 

Mythology. 
Stearns. Shakespeare Treasury of Wit and Wisdom. 
Wood's Natural History. 

Dictionaries. 

Harper. Latin Lexicon, edited by Lewis. 
Liddell and Scott. Greek Lexicon. 



3 


8" 


22 50 


2 


8° 


9 00 


I 


8° 


7 50 


I 


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3 00 


I 


8° 


6 00 


I 


8° 


105 00 


I 


8° 


9 00 


3 




24 00 


I 


12° 


I 75 


3 


8° 


iS 00 


I 


8° 


9 00 


I 


8° 


4 75 



* July, 1880. Of the ninth edition, n volumes now ready. 



124 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Spier and Surenne. French Dictionary. 
Whitney. German Dictionary. 

History. 

Ancient. 

Herodotus, edited by Rawlinson. 

(Or last revised EngHsh ed. of 1880, 4 vols., 8° $30 00) 

Seven Great Monarchies of the Eastern World. Rawlinson. 

Ancient Egyptians. By Wilkinson. 

Greece. By Grote. 

(Or last revised English edition, 10 vols., 8°, $40 00) 

Rome. By Mommsen. 

The Jews. By Josephus. Edited by Whiston. 
England. 

Armitage. Childhood of the English Nation. 

Freeman. History of the Norman Conquest. 

Froude. History of England from the fall of Wolsey to 
the death of Elizabeth. 

Green. History of the English People. 

Hallam. Constitutional History of England. 

Strickland. Queens of England. 
Europe. 

Dyer. History of Modern Europe. 

Robertson. View of Europe during the Middle Ages. 
France. 

Carlyle. French Revolution. 

Crowe. History of France. 

Lamartine. History of the Girondists. 
Germany. 

Bryce. The Holy Roman Empire. 

Gardner. Thirty Year's War. 

Gould (S. Baring.) Germany, Present and Past. 
Holland. 

Motley. Life of John Barneveld. 

PrALY. 

Ranke. History of the Popes. 

Sismondi. History of the Italian Republics. 



4 50 
3 50 



5 


8° 


30 00 


3 


8° 


33 00 


12 


12° 


18 00 


4 




8 GO 


4 


8° 


9 00 


I 


16' 


I 25 


6 


8° 


20 00 


12 


12° 


15 00 


4 


8° 


10 GO 


3 


12° 


5 25 


6 


12° 


12 GO 


4 


8° 


20 00 


' 


12° 


2 00 


3 


16° 


2 70 


5 


8° 


40 GO 


3 


12° 


4 50 


1 


12" 


2 GO 


I 


16° 


I GO 


2 




8 50 



4 00 



4 20 
I 40 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



125 



United States and British America. 

Bancroft. History of the United States. 

Frothingham. Rise of the Republic. 

Parkman's Historical Works. 

Comprising : The Oregon Trail ; History of the Conspiracy of 
Pontiac, 2 vols. ; The Pioneers of France in the New World ; 
The Jesuits in North America in the 17th Century; The Dis- 
covery of the Great West ; The Old Regime in Canada ; Count 
Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV. 

Von Hoist. Constitutional History of the United States. 

General. 

Creasy. Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World. 

D'Aubigne. History of the Reformation. 

Milman. History of Christianity to the Fall of Paganism. 

Latin Christianity. 

Prescoit. Historical Works. 

Smith, Gold win. On the Study of History. 

Smyth. Lectures on Modern History. 

Sybel. History and Literature of the Crusades. 

White. Eighteen Christian Centuries. 

Biography. 

Angelo, Michael. By Grimm. 

Audubon. Autobiography. 

Bayard, The Story of the Chevalier. 

Burke. By Prior. 

Charles XII of Sweden. By Voltaire. 

Charles V of Spain. By Robertson, Ed. Prescott 

Charles, the Bold of Burgundy. By Kirk. 

Caesar. By Froude. 

Evelyn. Diary. 

Frederick the Great. By Carlyle. 

Goethe. By Lewes. 

Autobiography, translated by Oxenford. (Bohn.) 

Higginson's Brief Biographies of European Statesmen. 
Irving, Washington. By P. M. Irving. 
Macaulay. By Trevelyan. 
Mahomet. By Irving. 
Napoleon. By Lanfrey. 



6 


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20 00 



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13 


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3 


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8 


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15 


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30 00 


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I 


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2 


12° 


4 25 


I 


12° 


2 00 


2 


8° 


5 00 




8° 


2 00 




16° 


I 25 




12" 


I 40 




12° 


2 25 




8° 


6 75 




8° 


g 00 




8° 


2 50 




12° 


2 00 


10 


16° 


9 00 




8° 


8 00 




12° 


I 40 




12° 


6 GO 




16° 


3 75 




8° 


2 75 


2 


16" 


2 50 


4 


8° 


12 50 



126 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Nelson. By Southey. 

Pepys. Diary. 

Prescott, W. H. By Ticknor. 

Quincy, Josiah. By Quincy. 

Robertson, F. W. Life and Letters. 

Schiller. By Carlyle. 

Scott. By Lockhart. 

Smith, Goldwin. Three English Statesmen, 

Voltaire. By Morley. 

Webster. By Curtis. 
Travel and Description. 
Africa. 

Burton. The Lake region of Africa. 

Livingston. Travels in Africa. 
America. 

Bates. Naturalist on the River Amazon. 

Stephens. Central America. 
China. 

Williams. The Middle Kingdom. 
England. 

Escott. England. 

Hawthorne, Mrs. England and Italy. 

Laugel. England, Political and SociaL 

Taine. Notes on England. 
France. 

Round My House. 



I i6° 


75 


I 12° 


I 75 


I 8° 


2 50 


I 8" 


3 50 


I 12° 


2 00 


I 12° 


90 


3 12° 


4 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 8° 


I 75 


2 8° 


6 00 



I 


8° 


3 50 


I 


8° 


4 50 


I 


8° 


2 50 


2 


8° 


6 00 



Hamerton 

Germany. 

De Stael. Germany. I 

Italy. 

De Stael. Corinne. I 

Hillard. Six Months in Italy. I 

Howell. Venetian Life. (See List I.) I 

General. 

Pumpelly. Across America and Asia. I 

Taylor, Bayard. Travels. (Part.) (See Lists I and III.) 6 
Gallon. The Art of Travel. i 



12 

12° 

12° 



4 00 

4 00 

I 75 

1 so 

2 50 



3 00 

1 75 

2 00 

1 75 

2 50 
9 00 

3 00 



I 


8° 


3 oo 


I 


r 


3 oo 


6 


12° 


12 oo 


6 


8° 


15 oo 


I 


i8° 


I 25 


2 


8° 


4 00 


3 


12° 


4 20 


I 


12° 


2 00 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 1 27 



Summaries and Collected Works. 

Becker. Charicles, or Ancient Greek Life. 

Gallus, or Ancient Roman Life. 

British Essayists. A Selection. 

British Essayists. Modern. 

Browne. Religio Medici. 

Buckle. History of Civilization in England. 

Coleridge. Works. (Part.) 

Cooper. Rural Hours. 

Foreign Classics for English Readers. (Biographical and 
critical studies.) Edited by Mrs. Oliphant, comprising 
Dante, Voltaire, Pascal, Petrarch, Goethe, Schiller, 
Moliere, Montaigne, Rabelais and Cervantes. 
. De Quincey. Works. Remainder. (See List I.) 

Foster. Decision of Character. 

Freeman. Historical Essays. 

Froude. Short Studies. 3d series. (See List I.) 

Great Truths from Great Authors. 

Helps. Friends in Council. (See List III.) 

Huxley. Works. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Jameson, Mrs. Works. (Part.) 

Landor. Imaginary Conversations. 

Mallock. Is Life Worth Living ? 

Marsh. Works on the English Language. 

Miller, Hugh. Works. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Miiller, Max. Chips from a German Workshop. 

Mitchell. Reveries of a Bachelor. 

Porter. Books and Reading. 

Ruskin. Stones of Venice. (See Lists I and III.) 

Seven Lamps. 

Spencer, Herbert. Works. (Part.) 

Taine. History of English Literature. 

Thoreau. Works. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Trench. Philological Works. 

Tyndall. Works. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Van Laun. History of French Literature. 

Warner, Dudley. Works. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Whipple, Character and Characteristic Men. 



10 


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10 50 


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I 


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2 


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4 00 


5 


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8 00 


6 


16° 


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5 


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2 


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6 


12° 


10 50 


4 


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I 


12° 


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I 


12° 


2 00 


3 


12' 


7 00 


I 


12° 


I 75 


5 


12° 


9 25 


2 


8° 


6 00 


4 


12° 


6 00 


3 


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4 50 


3 


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3 


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4 


16° 


5 00 


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I 00 



128 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



White. Classical Literature. 
Wilson. Noctes Ambrosianae. 

Fiction. 

Aldrich. Marjorie Daw, (See List III.) 

Andersen, Hans. Works. (Part.) 

Auerbach. On the Heights, 

Black, Wm. Princess of Thule. (See List HI.) 

Blackmore, R. D. Lorna Doone. (See List III.) 

Bulwer, Novels, (Part.) (See Lists I and III.) 

Fenelon. Telemachus. 

Gaskell, Mrs. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Gesta Romanorum. 

Hale, E. E. Sybaris. (See List III.) 

Hood. Works. (See List I.) 

Howells. Novels. (Part.) (See List III.) 

Kennedy. Novels. 

Kingsley, Chas. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Lever, Chas. Novels. (Part.) 

Marryatt. Novels. (Part.) 

Mayo. Kaloolah. 

Muloch. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Oliphant, Mrs. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Reade. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Stowe. Novels. (Part.) (See List I.) 

St. Pierre. Paul and Virginia. 

Thackeray, Miss. (Part.) (See List I.) 

Turgenieff. Fathers and Sons. 

Warner, Miss. Novels. (Part.) 

Whitney. Novels. (Part.) 

Scientific and Miscellaneous. 

Bacon. Novum Organum. 

Blanqui. History of Political Economy. 

Childs. Benedicite. 

Darwin. Works, (See List I.) 

De Vere, M. S. Works. 

Fothergill. Maintenance of Health. 



I 


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5 


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12 50 


'I 


12° 


I 50 


5 


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7 50 


2 


i6° 


2 00 


I 


12° 


I 25 


I 


12° 


I 25 


6 


12° 


7 50 


I 


8° 


2 50 


6 


i6° 


7 50 


I 


12° 


2 00 


I 


i6° 


I 25 


7 


12° 


14 00 


3 


12° 


4 50 


3 


12° 


6 00 


5 


12° 


8 75 


6 


12° 


7 50 


6 


12° 


7 50 


I 


12° 


I 75 


3 


12° 


4 50 


3 


12° 


4 50 


6 


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9 GO 


4 


12° 


8 GO 


I 


16° 


I 20 


3 


12° 


3 75 


I 


i6° 


I GO 


3 


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3 


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I 


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I 


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5 


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12 GO 


3 


12° 


3 75 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



129 



Galton. Hereditary Genius. 
Guillemin. Forces of Nature. 
Guyot. Earth and Man. 
Whitney. On Language. 

Poetry. 

Alger. Poetry of the Orient. 
Arnold, Matthew. 
Byron. 
Coleridge. 
Collins. 
Dryden. 
Goldsmith 
'Gray. 

Hunt, Leigh. 
Hymns of the Ages. 
Keats. 
Locker. 

Lockhart. Spanish Ballads. 
Macaulay. Lays of Ancient Rome. 
Meredith. 
Moore. 

Percy's Reliques of Early English Poetry. 
Shelley. 
Spenser. 
Stedman. 
Stoddard. 
Taylor, Bayard. 
Vers de Societe. 
Wordsworth. 



I 12 


2 GO 


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I 8° 


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I 8" 


2 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


2 00 


I 8° 


4 00 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


I 75 


I 32° 


I 25 


I 16° 


I 50 


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4 50 


I 12° 


2 00 


I 12° 


2 50 


I 12° 


2 50 


I 16° 


I 50 


I 12° 


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T 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


I 75 


I 12° 


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I 12° 


I 50 


I 12° 


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I 12° 


4 00 


I 12° 


2 00 


I 16° 


I 00 


I W" 


I 50 



130 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



THIRD LIST 

Comprising about 1,000 volume;, which are recommended as the most 
desirable and important after the works specified in the two previous 
lists have been obtained. 



Works of Reference. 

Allibone. Dictionary of Prose Quotations. 

Dictionary of Poetical Quotations. 

Arvine. Cyclopaedia of Anecdotes. 
Bartlett. Dictionary of Americanisms. 
Brewer. The Reader's Handbook of Allusions, Refer- 
ences, Stories, etc. 

Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. 

Burton. Cyclopaedia of Wit and Humor. 

Crabb. English Synonyms. 

Kitto. Bible Illustrations. 

Rand & McNally. Atlas of the United States. 

Roget. Thesaurus of English Words. 

Smith. English Synonyms. 

Dictionary of the Bible. (American revised edition.) 4 

Wheeler. Dictionary of Noted Names of Fiction. 

Ancient. 

Greece. 

Heeren. Politics of Ancient Greece. 

Thucydides. Translated by Dale. 

Xenophon. Works. Translated. 
Rome. 

Ihne. History of Rome. Vols. I-III. ' - 

Livy. History. Translated. 

Merivale. Rome under the Empire. 

Michelet. Roman Republic. 

Sallust. Translated by Rose. 

Tacitus. Translated. 
Jews. 

Ewald. History of the Jews. 

Strachey. Jewish History and Politics. 



I 


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I 


8° 


5 00 


I 


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4 00 


I 


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4 00 


I 


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3 50 


2 


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3 50 


2 


8° 


7 GO 


I 


8° 


2 50 


4 


12° 


7 00 


I 


4° 


12 CO 


I 


12° 


2 GO 


I 


8° 


6 GO 


4 


8" 


26 GO 


I 


12"* 


2 50 



I 


8° 


I 75 


I 


12° 


2 GO 


3 


8° 


6 GO 


3 


8° 


36 GO 


4 


12° 


8 GO 


4 


12° 


7 GO 


I 


12" 


I 40 


I 


12° 


2 GO 


2 


12° 


4 GO 


5 


8° 


25 GO 


I 


8° 


6 GO 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



31 



Egypt. 

Kenrick. Ancient Egypt. 

Sharpe. History of Egypt to Arab Conquest. 

Phcenicia. 

Kenrick. History of Phoenicia. 

Mediaeval, etc. 

Conde. The Arabs in Spain. 
Froissart. Chronicles of the Middle Ages. 
Michaud. History of the Crusades. 
Miller. History of the Anglo-Saxons. 

Europe. 

Alison. History of Europe. 



or Cheaper 
4 vols., 8° 1 



(Printed in double columns.) 



Edition, 
b" $8 00 

History of Modern Europe. 
History of the Eighteenth Century. 



Russell. 
Schlosser. 

Italy. 

Machiavelli. Florence and Italy. 
Napier. Florentine History. 
Roscoe, Leo X. 

Lorenzo de Medici. 

Smedley. Venetian History. 

England. 
Clarendon. History of the Rebellion (of 1689). With 

life of author. 
Guizot. English Revolution of 1640. 
Jesse. Court of England under the Stuarts. 
Knight. Popular History of England. 
Lecky. History of England in the Eighteenth Century. 
Martineau. England during the Peace, 1815-1854. 
May. Constitutional History of England from the Acces- 
sion of George III. 
Palgrave. History of the Anglo-Saxons. 
Pearson. English History in the Fourteenth Century. 
Stanhope. History of England, 1701-1713. 

1713-1783. 

Stubbs. Constitutional History of England. 



5 CX) 

4 00 

5 00 



3 


I2» 


4 20 


2 


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3 


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4 25 


I 


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20 12 30 00 



4 


8° 


16 00 


8 


8° 


20 00 


I 


12° 


I 40 


6 


12° 


7 50 


2 


12° 


2 80 


I 


12° 


I 40 


2 


18° 


[ 50 


I 


8° 


7 00 


I 


12° 


I 40 


3 


12° 


4 20 


8 


8° 


20 00 


2 


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4 


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2 


8° 


3 50 


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7 


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14 00 


3 


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ID 00 



132 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



France. 

Adams. Democracy and Monarchy in France. 

Commines. Memoirs of France and Burgundy. 

D'Aumale. History of the Princes of Conde. 

Guizot. Memoirs of My Own Time. 

Lamartine. The French Revolution of 1848. 

Ranke. Civil Wars in France in 19th and 17th Centuries. 

Stephens. Lectures on the Histoiy of France. 

Sully. Memoirs of Henry IV of France. 

Sybel. The French Revolution. 

(or Smyth. French Revolution. 2 vols. $3.50.) 

Taine. The Old Regime. 
■ Thiers. Life of. By Le Goff. 

History of the French Revolution. 

Voltaire. Age of Louis XIV. 

Germany. 

Coxe. History of the House of Austria. 
Menzel. History of Germany. 

or, Kohlrausch. History of Germany, i vol., 8° $3 50 
Ranke. History of the House of Brandenburg. 
Schiller. History of the Thirty Years' War. 

United States. 

Adams, John. Works. ] 

First Century of the Republic. A Review of American 
Progress. 

Frothingham. Rise of the Republic. 

Greeley. History of the American Conflict. (More espe- 
cially political.) 

Hildreth. History of the U. S. 

Johnson. History of American Politics. 

Lossing. Field Book of the American Revolution. 

Field Book of the War, 1812. 

May. Recollections of the Anti-Slavery Conflict. 

McPherson. Political History of the U. S. during Recon- 
struction. 

Palfrey. History of New England. 



I 


8° 


2 56 


2 


12° 


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2 


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2 


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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



^33 



Paris, Count de. History of the American Civil War, 

(from a military standpoint.) Vols. I and II. 2 

Stephens. History of the War between the States. 2 

Sumner. Works, 1 5 

Webster. Works. 6 

UlSCELLANEOUS. 

Freeman. History of the Saracens. 

The Ottoman Power in Europe. 

Hungary and its Revolutions. 

India. Descriptive and Historical. 

Kelly. History of Russia. 

Kitto. History of Palestine. 

Mill. History of British India. 

Napier. History of the Peninsular War. 

Greece. By Wordsworth. Hist, and Discript. 

Ottoman Empire. Creasy. History of. 

Poland. Dunham. History of. 

Scandinavia. Sinding. History of. 
Church History, etc. 

Baird. History of the Huguenots ; (or, Smith. History 
of the Huguenots. 2 vols. $4.00.) 

Fisher. The Beginning of Christianity. 

Hardwick. History of the Christian Church during the 
Reformation. 

Mosheim. Ecclesiastical History. 

Neander. History of Christian Church. 

First Planting of Christian Church. 

Nicolini. History of Jesuits. 

Ranke. History of the Reformation. 

Seebohm. History of the Reformation. 

Schaff. History of Christian Church. 

Creeds of Christendom. 

Smith. Mohammed and Mohammedanism. 

Stanley. History of Jewish Church. 

History of Eastern Church. 

Philosophy of History, etc. 

Guizot. History of Civilization in Europe. 



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134 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Hegel. Philosophy of History. 

Schlegel. Philosophy of History. 

Volney. Ruins or the Revolutions of Empires. 

Biography. 

Alfieri. Life. Edited by Howells. 
Andersen, Hans. Story of My Life. 
Arndt. By Seeley. 
Arnold. By Stanley. 
Bacon. By Spedding. 
Besant. The French Humorists. 
Blanc. Painters of All Nations. 
Book of Worthies. By Miss Yonge. 
Bronte, Charlotte. By Mrs. Gaskell. 

Brougham, Men of Letters and Science of Time of 
George IH. 

Statesmen of the Time of George III. 

Burns. By Lockhart. 

Byron. By Moore, 

Calvin. By Dyer. 

Campbell, Chief Justices of England. 

Campbell. Lord Chancellors of England. 

Cellini. By himself. 

Cervantes. By Roscoe. 

Chesney. Essays in Military Biography. 

Christ. Life by Farrow. 

Clarke, Mary and Charles. Recollections of Writers. 

Clement. Artists of the 19th Century. 

Painters, Sculptors. 

Dante. By Botta. 

Diderot, and the Encyclopaedists. By Morley. 

Edgar. Boyhood of Great Men. 

Elizabeth. By Lucy Aikin. 

Faraday, as a Discoverer. By Tyndall. 

Foster, John, By Ryland. 

Gibbon, Recollections. 

Gladstone, By Smith. 

Goethe, By Carlyle. 



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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



135 



Great Artists, Biographies of. Illustrated. 
Greeley. Recollections. 
Hamerton. Modern Frenchmen. 
Hampden and His Times. By Nugent. 
Herodotus. Life and Travel. By Wheeler. 
Henry, Patrick. By Wirt. 
Jackson, A. By Parton. 
Jameson. Female Sovereigns. 

Lives of Italian Painters. 

Jefferson. By Parton. 
Louis IX of France. By Joinville. 
Louis XI of France. By Commines. 
Louis XIV. By Miss Pardoe. 
Luther. By Bunsen. 

By Michelet. 

Machiavelli, By Villari. 
Marie Antoinette. By Yonge. 
Marlborough. By Coxe. 
Martineau. Biographical Sketches. 
Mary, Queen of Scots. By Strickland, 
Mill, J. S. Autobiography. 
Milton. By Masson. 
Montalembert. Monks of the West. 
Motley. By Holmes, 
Napoleon I. Memoirs. Las Casas. 

Court of. By Mme de Remusat. 

Nevi'ton, Sir I. By Brewster. 

Palissy the Potter. By Morley. 

Paul, the Apostle. Conybeare and Howson. 

Parker, T. By Frothingham. 

Parton. Famous Americans of Recent Times. 

Pellico, Silvio, My Prisons. 

Peter the Great. By Schuyler. 

Pitt. By Macaulay. 

Plato and the Companions of Socrates. By Grote. 

Pliny. Life and Letters. 

Plutarch. Life. By Trench. 

Raleigh. By Kingsley. 



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136 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Richter. By himself. 

Savonarola. Life and Times. 

Schiller. By Carlyle. 

Sidney, Sir P. By Bourne. 

Smiles. Brief Biographies. 

Industrial Biography. 

Lives of the Stevensons. 

A Scotch Geologist. 

Somerville, Mrs. Recollections. 

St. Beuve. Celebrated Women. 

Stein, Baron. By Seeley. 

Sumner. Memoirs. Edited by Pierce. 

Swift. By Forster. Continued by . 

Thorwaldsen. By Plon. 

Ticknor, G. Life and Journals. 
By Thornbury. 

Life of Painters and Sculptors. 
Lives. Hooker, Taylor, etc. 
By Jackson. 

Whitefield. By Harsha. 

Wicliffe. By Le Bas. 
Travel and Description. 
Africa. 

Anderssen. Southwestern Africa. 

Baker. The Albert Nyanza. 

Cameron. Across Africa. 

Lepsius. Letters from Ethiopia. 

Livingstone. Last Journals. 

McCoan. Egypt. 

Schweinfurth. Heart of Africa. 

Stanley. Across the Dark Continent. 
America. 

Bishop. 1,000 Miles Across South America. 

Bird. Lady's Life in Rocky Mountains. 

Robinson. The Great Fur Land. 
Asia. 

Bickmore. East Indian Archipelago. 



Turner. 
Vasari. 
Walton. 
Wesley. 





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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



137 



Bird. Unbeaten Tracks in Japan. 
Griffis. The Mikado's Empire, 
Hunter. Rural Bengal. 
Marco, Polo. Travels in the East. 
Oppert. Voyages to the Corea. 
Prime. Tent Life in Syria. 
Wallace. Malay Archipelago. 
Warner. In the Levant. 
Wilson. The Abode of Snow. 
Europe. 

De Amicis. Constantinople. 

Paris. 

Holland. 

Dyer. Pompeii. 

Gautier. A Winter in Russia. 

Grohman. Tyrolese Life. 

Hare. Walks in Rome. 

Hawthorne. English Note Books. 

Hay. Castilian Days. 

Hunt. Bits of Travel. 

Jones. The Regular Swiss Round. 

Rydberg. , Roman Days. 

Sergeant. New Greece. 

Story. Roba di Roma. 

Symonds. Sketches and Stories in Southern Europe. 

Taine. Florence and Italy. 

« Rome and Naples. 

Tuckerman. The Greeks of To-Day. 
Wordsworth. Greece. Historical and Pictorical. 
General. 

Whymper. Rambles among the Alps. 

Brassey. Around the World in the Yacht Sunbeam. 

Dilke. Great Britain. 

Dufferin. Letters from High Latitudes. 

Field. Travels around the World 

Heine. Pictures of Travel. 

Mac Gregor. 1,000 Miles in the Rob-Roy. 



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138 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOl^SEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Prime. Around the World. 
Smiles. A Boy's Journey Around the World. 
Taylor. Travels. Remainder of set. (See Lists I and II.) 
General Literature, Essays, etc. 
Adams. The Secret of Success. 
Addison, History of the Knights Templar. 
Alger. History of Belief in Future Life. 
Aristotle. Philosophical Works. 
Arnold, Matthew. Essays. 

Culture and Anarchy. 

Art Suggestions from the Masters. Edited by S. N. 

Carter. 
Barham. Ingoldsby Legends. 
Bartlett. Dictionary of Americanisms. 
Beaumont and Fletcher. Edited by Leigh Hunt. 
Beecher. Royal Truths. 
Bell. Anatomy of Expression. 
Bohn. Handbook of Proverbs. 
Brande. Popular Antiquities. 
Brinton. Myths of the New World. 
Brown, J. Spare Hours. 
Browne, Sir Thos. Works. (See list II.) 
Bulfinch. Mythology, etc. 
Buckle. Essays. 
Burke. Works. 
Burroughs. Essays. 
Burton. Anatomy of Melancholy. 
Cicero. Oratory and Orators. 

Works. Translated. A selection. 

Coleridge. Aids to Reflection. 
Combe. Constitution of Man. 
Cousin. Philosophy of the Beautiful. 
Couture. Art Conversations. 

Cox. Mythology of the Aryan Nations. 
Curtis. Prue and I. The Lotus Eaters. 
Demosthenes. Orations. 
Disraeli, Benj. Works. 





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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



139 



Doran. Monarchs Retired from Business. 

Queens of England. 

Eggleston, G. C. A Rebel's Recollections. 

Ennemoser. History of Magic. 

Epictetus. Morals. 

Fergusson. History of Architecture. 

Fiske. Myths and Myth-Makers. 

Foster, John. Essays. 

Fuller. Good Thoughts in Bad Times. 

Gladstone. Juventus Mundi. 

Gosse. Studies in the Literature of Northern Europe. 

Hare. Guesses at Truth. 

Helps. Companions of My Solitude. 

Heine. Sketches of Travel. 

Wit, Wisdom and Pathos. 

Higginson. Out of Door Papers. 

Humboldt. Views of Nature. 

Hunt, Leigh. The Seer, etc. 

James. French Poets and Novelists. 

Jesse. Anecdotes of Dogs. 

Keightley. Fairy Mythology. 

Mythology of Greece and Rome. 

Knight. Half Hours with the Best Authors. 

Knowledge is Power. 

Landor. Pericles and Aspasia. 

Lange. History of Materialism. 

Lecky. History of Rationalisin. 

History of European Morals. 

Lee. Canterbury Tales. 

Lessing. Laocoon. Translated by Frothingham. 

Locke. Philosophical Works. 

Lubke. History of Art. 

Mallock. The New Republic. 

Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. 

Mathews. Enchanted Moccasins. 

Mathews. Getting On in the World. 

Maurice. Friendship of Books. 

Milton. Prose Works. 



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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Mitchell, Dream Life. (See List II.) 

Morley. First Sketch of English Literature. 

Muller. Literature of Ancient Greece. 

.Murray. Manual of Mythology. 

Pitman and Pabke. Wonder World. Legends of all 

Nations. 
Plato. Philosophical Works. Translated by Gary. 
Prout, Father. Reliques of. 
Rabelais. Works. 
Ramage. Beautiful Thoughts from Greek, Latin, French, 

German, Spanish and Italian Authors. 
Rawlinson. Historical Evidences of Truth of the Bible. 
Seeley. Lectures and Essays. 

Ecce Homo. 

Shairp. Culture and Literature. 

Sheridan. Dramatic Works. 

Sidney, Sir P. Arcadia. 

Sismondi. Literature of the South of Europe. 

Southey. The Doctor. 

Stearns. Shakespeare Treasuay. 

Sterne. Works. 

Swift. Works. Selected. 

Symonds. Renaissance in Italy. 

Studies of the Greek Poets. 

Taine. Art Ideal, etc. 

Taylor, Bayard. Critical Essays. 

Ticknor. History of Spanish Literature. 

Value of Life, The. A Reply to Mallock. 

Walton and Cotton. Angler. 

Warton. History. English Poetry. 

Whipple. Essays. 

Science, Education, Politics, etc. 

Agassiz. Geological Sketches. 

Seaside Studies. 

Argyll. The Reign of Law. 
Bagehot. Lombard Street. 
Physics and Politics. 





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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



14- 



Bascom. The Science of Mind. 
Beckmann. History of Inventions. 
Bristed. Five Years in an English University. 
Bernstein. Five Senses of Man. 

Chapin. The Creation and Development of Mankind. 
Clodd. Childhood of Religion. 
Coulanges. The Ancient City. 

Creasy. Rise and Progress of the English Constitution. 
Croll. Climate and Time. 
Dana. Corals. 

Farrar. Essays on Liberal Education. 
Farrer. Primitive Customs. 
Figuier. Primitive Man. 

Guillemin. The Applications of Physical Forces. 
Hart. German Universities. 
Hill. The True Order of Studies. 
Huxley. Works. Remainder. (See list II.) 
International Scientific Series. Edited by Youmans. 
A Selection. ] 

Le Due, Viollet. Learning to Draw 
Lockyer. Physical Forces. 
Maudsley. Body and Mind. 
Marsh. Earth as Modified by Human Action. 
Mill. Dissertations and Discussions. 
Mivart. Works. 
Mulford. The Nation. 
Peschel. Races of Men. 
Pouchet. The Universe. 
Porter. American Colleges. 
Prichard. Natural History of Man. 
Quatrefages. Natural History of Man. 
Reclus. The Earth. 

The Ocean. 

Ribot. Heredity. 

Stephen. Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. 

Spencer, Herbert. Works. (Part.) (See List II.) 

Stickney. A True Republic. 

Sturtevant. Economics, 



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142 SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

Thwing. American Colleges. 

Tyndall. Works. Remainder. (See List II.) 

Tylor. Primitive Culture. 

Early History of Mankind, Vol. I. 

Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation. 
Wallace. Distribution of Animals. 

Natural Selection. 

Walker. The Wages Question. 
Whewell. History of Inductive Sciences. 
Whitney. On Language. 
Winchell. Sketches of Creation. 
Woolsey. International Law. 

Political Science. 

Youmans. Culture Demanded by Modern Life. 
Fiction. 

About. Novels. A part. 

Aguilar. Novels. A part. 

Alcott. Stories. A part. 

Alexander. The Wooing O't. and Two Others. 

Aldrich. Novels A part. (See List I.) 

Andersen. Works. Remainder. (See List II.) 

Auerbach. Novels. Part. (See List II.) 

Beckford. Vathek. 

Bj5rnsen. Novels. 

Black. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Blackmore. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Blindpits. 

Boccacio. Decameron. 

Bolteo. Madame de Stael. 

Boyesen. Tales. 

Bremer, Novels. A part. 

Broughton. Novels. A part. 

Bulwer. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Burnett. Lass of Lowrie's. 

Burney. Evelina. 

Carleton. Stories of the Irish Peasantry. 

Chamisso. Peter Schlemilt 



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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



143 



Charles. Schonberg Cotta. 

Clarke, C. Noblesse Oblige, and one other. 

Clarke, M. C. Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines. 

Collins, Wilkie. A part. 

Davis, Mrs. R, H. Novels. A part 

De Forest. Novels. A part. 

Dingelstedt. The Amazon. 

Disraeli. Novels. A part. 

Earnest Trifler. 

Ebers. Uarda and Homo Sum. 

Edwards, Amelia B. Novels. A part, 

Edwards, Annie. Novels. A part. 

Edwards, M. Betham. Novels. A part. 

Eggleston, E. Novels. A part. 

Erckmann-Chatrian. Novels. A part. 

Farjeon. Novels. A part. 

Fenelon. Telemachus. 

Feuillet. Novels. A part. 

Fielding. Novels. 

Flemming. Cupid and the Sphinx. 

Fouque. Thiodolf the Icelander. 

Fothergill. Probation, and one other. 

Freytag. Debit and Credit. 

Gautier. Captain Fracasse. 

Green. Leavenworth Case. 

Hale, E. E. Ingham Papers. (See List II.) 

Hardy. Madding Crowd, and two others. 

Harte. Roaring Camp. 

Heyse. Tales. Translated. 

Howells. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Hughes. Tom Brown at Rugby and Oxford. 

James, H. Novels. A part. 

Jewett, Sarah. Deephaven, etc. 

Johnson. Rasselas 

Lee. Canterbury Tales (from Chaucer). 

Le Sage. Gil Bias. 

Lever. Novels. A part. 

Macdonald. Novels. A part. 



I 


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2 00 


2 


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2 25 


3 


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4 50 


4 


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2 


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2 oc 


3 


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4 75 


6 


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7 50 


4 


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2 50 


2 


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2 75 


3 


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3 75 


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I 25 


2 


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2 00 


I 


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3 




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4 


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2 


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675 


3 


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5 25 


3 


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3 75 


3 


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5 25 



144 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Maitland. Pilgrim and Shrine. i 

A Man's a Man for a' That. i 

Manzoni. The Betrothed. i 

Marlitt. Novels. A part. 3 

Mayo. The Berber. Never Again. (See List II.) 2 

Mitford. Our Village. " 2 

Moore. The Epicurean. I 

More. Coelebs in Search of a Wife. i 

Muloch, Miss. A part. (See List 11.) 3 

No Name Series. A part. ^ 6 

Noble. Uncle Jack's Executors. i 

Oliphant. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 3 

Parr, Louisa. Novels. A part. 3 

Peacock. Headlong Hall and Nightmare Abbey. 2 

Phelps. Novels. A part. 3 

Prentiss. Stepping Heavenward. I 

Reuter. In the Year 13. i 

Roberts. Noblesse Oblige, and one other. 2 

Roe, E. P. Novels. A part. 2 

Ruffini. Doctor Antonio. i 

Rydberg. Last Athenian. i 

Sand, Geo. Novels. A part. 3 

Saxe Holm. Stories. 2 

Scott, Michael. Tom Cringle's Log. I 

Sewell. Novels. A part. 3 

Shelley, Mrs. Frankenstein. i 
Shunsui. The Loyal Ronins. A Japanese Romance. 

Translated by Greey. i 

Sheppard. Counterparts. i 

Smedley. Frank Fairleigh. i 

Smollett. Novels. A part. 3 

Souvestre. Attic Philosopher. 1 

Spielhagen. Problematic Characters. i 

Spofford. Amber Gods. i 

Stael, Mme de. Corinne. i 

Sterne. Tristram Shandy. I 

t?towe, Mrs. Novels. Remainder. 4 

;o\xe. Th.e Wandering Jew. t 



13" 

16" 
12' 

12° 
12° 
12° 
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3 00 
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2 00 
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I 50 
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I 75 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 

Tales from Blackwood. 

Turgenieff. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Tourgee. A Fool's Errand. 

Trollope. Novels. A part. 

Tytler. Novels. A part. 

Verne. Romances. A part. 

Vigny. Cinq Mars. 

Walford. Mr. Smith and Troublesome Daughters. 

Walpole. Castle of Otranto. 

Ware. Novels. (See List I.) 

Warner. Novels. A part. (See List XL) 

Warren. Ten Thousand a Year. 

Werner. Good Luck. 

Whitney. Novels. A part. (See List II.) 

Winthrop. Works. 

Yonge. Novels. A part. 

Poetry and Drama. 

Aldrich. Poems 

Arnold. E. The Light of Asia. 



145 



Aytoun. 

Bailey, 

Brackett, 

Butler. 

Calverly. 



Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers. 
Festus. 

Poetry for Home and School. 
Hudibras. 
Fly Leaves. 
Cary, Alice and Phoebe'. Poems. 
Chaucer. Edited by Oilman. 
Clough. Poems. 

Coates. The Fireside Encyclopaedia of Poetry. 
Crabbe. Poems. 
Dobell. Poems. 
Emerson. Parnassus. 

Fields and Whipple. Family Library of British Poetry. 
Gilbert. Bab Ballads. 
Goethe. Hermann and Dorothea. Translated by 

Froth ingham. 
Goodale. Apple Blossoms. 
Harte. Poems. 



6 


16° 


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3 


16° 


3 00 


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6 


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3 


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5 25 


4 


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7 GO 


I 


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2 


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2 00 


I 


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I 50 


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3 


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5 25 


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I 


8° 


I 25 


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5 


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xo- 


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3 00 



146 



SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LIBRARIES. 



Hay. Poems. 

Heine. Poems and Ballads. Translated. 

Horace. Odes. Translated by Martin. 

Howells. Poems. 

Ingelow. Poems. 

Johnson, R., Editor. Single Famous Poems. 

Leland. Breitmann Ballads. 

Lessing. Nathan the Wise. Translated. 

Longfellow. Editor. Poems of Places. A part. 

Lytton. Lost Tales of Miletus. 

Meredith. Lucile. 

Mistral. Mireio. Translated by Preston. 

Moliere. Translated by Wall. 

Morris. Poems. A part. 

Muloch. Poems. 

Omar Khayyam. Rubaiyat. 

Preston. Troubadours and Trouveres. 

Proctor, Adelaide. Poems. 

Quiet Hours. 

Reynard the Fox. 

Rogers. Poems. 

Rosetti, C. G. Poems. 

Rosetti, D. G. Poems. 

Saadi. Rose Garden of Persia. 

Sea and Shore (a collection of poems). 

Shakespeare. Songs and Sonnets. Edited by Palgrave. 

Smith, H. and J. Poems. 

Southey. Poems. 

Swinburne. Atalanta in Calydon. 

Taylor, Bayard. Echo Club. 

Taylor, Sir H. Philip van Arteveld. 

Tegner. Frithiofs Saga. 

Thackeray. Ballads. 

Thomson. Poems. 

Trowbridge. The Vagabond, etc. 

Vers de Societe. 

Virgil, Translated by Conington. 

Whittier. Songs of Three Centuries. 



12" 
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SUGGESTIONS FOR HOUSEHOLD LTtiRARlES. 



^47 



A Collection of 50 Volumes of useful and desirable 
and compact editions, is suggested as follows : 
Bacon. Essays. Edited by Lewis. 
Bartlett. Dictionary of Quotations. 
Book of Golden Deeds. 
Browning. Men and Women. 
Bryant's Poems. 
Carlyle. Anthology. 
Chambers. Cyclopaedia. 
Dante. Translated by Cary. 
Defoe. Robinson Crusoe. 
Don Quixote. 
Emerson. Essays. 
Franklin. Autobiography. 
Godwin. Cyclopsedia of Biography, 
Goethe. Faust. Translated by Taylor. Part I. 
Great Truths from Great Authors. # 

Hawthorne. Scarlet Letter. 
Higginson. Young Folks' History of the U. S. 
Hood. Prose Works. 
Irving. Life of Washington. Abridged. 

Sketch Book and Knickerbocker. 

Johnson. Chief Lives of the Poets. 

Knight. Half Hours with the Best Authors. 

Lamb. Essays of Elia. 

Lowell. Poems. 

Mill on Liberty. (With Subjection of Women.) 

Milton. Poems. 

Plato. Republic. 

Plutarch. Lives. 

Putnam. Best Reading. 

Library Atlas. 

World's Progress. 

Ruskin. Works. Selection. 
Scott. Poems. 
Shakespeare. 
Smiles. Self Help. 
Trench. Study of Words. 
Whittier. Poems. 



books, in economical 



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GO 




THE HOME: 

V/HERE IT SHOULD BE AND WHAT 
TO PUT IN IT. 

BY 

FEANK E. AND MARIAN STOCKTON. 




NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 AND 29 West 23d St. 



Bntered according to act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 

G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, 

In the Ofllcw of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



PREFACE. 

{Which it may he well to read,) 



This book has been prepared more especially for 
those about to commence house-keeping, but will, we 
hope, be found not without interest and value to those 
of more experience. 

The first portion of it, relating to the selection or 
building of a house, is more general in its treatment of 
the subject than the portions relating to the furnishing 
and interior arrangements. We have endeavored to 
write only of what housekeepers should do for them- 
selves. In a book of this size we could not undertake 
to give plans of houses and architectural directions. 
These belong to works on building. But as the care- 
ful selection of a house, or the intelhgent supervision 
of its construction, should be the duty of those intend- 
ing to estabhsh for themselves a satisfactory home, we 
have treated of these subjects. 

But, when the house is ready for occupancy, the real 
work of the housekeepers commence. They, themselves, 



Tin PBEFACE. 

must furnish their home, and, to a very great extent, 
must depend upon their own judgment and good sense. 
To aid in this work, we have given very particular and 
explicit directions in regard to house -furnishing, which 
is mainly the purpose of this volume. 

We have also devoted considerable space to various 
departments of domestic economy, having in view the 
needs not only of those of small means, but of persons 
of good incomes, to whom it is an object to make an 
economical and advantageous disposition of their 
money. 

And, in treating of the furnishing and general ar- 
rangements of a house, we have endeavored to consider 
not only the ordinary subjects of convenience, expense, 
etc., but those of beauty, and artistic effect. And with 
these economy is perfectly compatible, for to make a 
home tasteful and attractive money is often not so ne- 
cessary as study and observation, and a httle earnest- 
ness in regard to the desired end. 

For information in various parts of this volume we 
are indebted to Messrs. Kelty & Co., Edward D. Bass- 
ford, Degraaf & Taylor, Lord & Taylor, and Ball, Black 
& Co., of New York, and James H. Orne, Son & Co., o/ 
Philadelphia. 



THE HOME. 



PART L 
THE LOCATION OF THE HOME. 

A COUNTRY HOME. 

Under this title we will consider the homes of coun- 
try people, not the country residences of persons doing 
business in the city. These will be treated under an- 
other head. 

There is, perhaps, less opportunity of selection in re- 
gard to the location of a country house than in any 
other instance ; for we are very apt, when we buy, or 
rent a farm, large or small, to give the chief consider- 
ation to the land, and to be satisfied, or to endeavor to 
be satisfied with the house we find upon it. This is 
often our only course, but it also happens, frequently 
enough, that a country house is to be built, and the 
locality of this we will consider. 

If there has been a house on the farm, the new edifice 
is generally erected on, or near, the location on which 
the old one stood, for there are all the conveniences 
and outside belongings of the dwelling. If, then, these 
conveniences are to be considered of the first import- 



10 THE HOME. 

ance there is nothing more to be said about the loeatioD. 
But we do not subscribe to the doctrine of the domina- 
tion of convenience which governs so many country 
builders. We would place the requisites for a good 
location of a country home in the following order : 
healthfulness, comfort, convenience. Therefore, in the 
first place, the house should be on a portion of the land 
where good drainage is possible ; it should be well 
shaded, but not too much so ; and its situation should 
be as convenient as possible in respect to water, access 
to farm buildings, the road, and the fields. 

This matter of a healthful location is too often en- 
tirely neglected in building country houses. A low, 
damp locality is attractive because it is better sheltered 
from the winds of winter ; water is more readily ob- 
tained ; the kitchen garden may be of better soil ; and, 
if there is danger of chills and fever, and of rheuma- 
tism, these are dangers to which country people have 
been so long familiar that they have become tired of 
being prudent. But we might as well live as long and 
as happily as we can, and, if there is a choice of lo- 
cation, let as build on that which is most healthful, un- 
less circumstances compel us, as they unfortunately 
sometimes will, to do otherwise. 

There is nothing which conduces so much to the com- 
fort of a country house as the shade and protection 
afforded by trees, and yet bare houses are as common 
on a farm as bare feet. Very often the first thing done 
after the site for the house is selected is to cut down all 
the trees thereon. Absolute barbarity is often displayed 
in such cases, when grand trees of years of magnificent 
growth are sacrificed to the mere convenience of a car- 
penter or mason. There are few things about which we 



LOCATION OF THE HOME. 11 

should hesitate so long as the felling of a fine tree near 
the future homestead. 

To be sure, roots and branches are often great hin- 
drances to cellar-digging, and house-building, and it is 
BO easy to set out young trees ! This is true, but it is 
not always easy to live until those trees have grown to 
their full size and use. It is well for a place to be plea- 
sant for our children, but it is better to have it pleasant 
also for ourselves. So, if possible, have trees about your 
house, or go a little out of your way to find a place 
where there are trees ; oaks, maples, etc., for shade, and 
cedars and other evergreens for protection against the 
blasts of winter. 

In regard to the convenience of a situation it is not 
necessary to say much. The country builder is always 
ready enough to consider this branch of the subject. 
But it is better to depend for water on a hydraulic ram 
or a pipe from a distant spring than to sacrifice comfort 
and health to a well at the back door. And we earnestly 
advise the country builder to consider that he is a man 
as well a^ a farmer — that the health and happiness of 
his family are worth as much at least as the possible 
profit from placing the barn on the side of a convenient 
rise in the ground, and the house wherever it may be 
most convenient to the stables and the pig pen. 

We win be glad to see the- day when the barn becomes 
the auxiliary of the dwelhng ; when the family is con- 
sidered fii'st, and the cattle afterward. 

To many parts of our country these remarks do not 
a])ply. The homestead there is on the finest situation on 
the farm, and the necessary buildings cluster around as 
they are needed. But in many localities the magnificent 
barns and the poor, make-shift dwelhngs make us long 



12 THE HOME. 

for a change in that rui-a] sentiment which sets the com- 
fort and well-being of a horse or a cow over that of their 
human owners. 

A SUBUKBAN HOME. 

This is a general term to designate the dwellings of 
those who do business in the city, but who live outside 
of the business limits. 

In the first place, as in the former instance, we ought 
to think of health. Around many cities, great care is 
necessary to avoid what are called the chill and fever 
districts. Ill-drained locations ; sites. near or on new- 
made ground, or filled-in marshes ; must be avoided if 
you wish to remain on distant terms with that unplea- 
sant acquaintance — the fever and ague. It will not do 
to depend on inquiries of property holders, or even of 
the residents of the neighborhood. No matter where 
you may go you will find that people who have lands to 
sell are nearly always very favorably impressed with the 
superior healthfulness of their property. Close and 
careful investigation will alone disclose the truth. And 
it is possible to discover it without living on the spot to 
find out by actual experiment whether you will be sick 
or not. The investigation may be troublesome, but it 
will repay all the money or time you spend upon it. 

Then, if you intend to buy or build your house the 
value of land ought to be considered ; not only the 
price at the time but the possible rise and decrease in 
such price. There are building sites in and around 
New York which to-day are not worth the money that 
was paid for them several years ago, and there are, as 
every one knows, lots that have doubled and trebled in 
value in the same time. The improving tendencies of 



LOCATION OP THE HOME. 13 

a neighborhood, and the probability of increased ac- 
cessibihty to the business centres, will be considered by 
every man of ordinary judgment, but it is so easy to be 
misled in these regards that great prudence, united to 
a spirit of investigation, is always needed. The repre- 
sentations of agents and owners are almost always apt 
to show an unnaturally bright side of the picture. It 
must be toned down by good, hard common sense be- 
fore you can look at it properly. 

Taxes, and probable assessments for improvements, 
opening streets, etc., always exercise a very powerful 
influence upon the value of a lot to a man in moderate 
circumstances. To the rich, the fact that he is obliged 
to help pay for the opening of a street through the 
property need matter little, for the expense is likely to 
be repaid to him two or three fold in the course of 
time, but it is widely different in the case of a man in 
moderate circumstances. The hundred dollars which 
he is required to pay to-day may be worth far more to 
him than the three or four hundred dollars of 'in- 
creased value that may accrue upon his land in conse- 
quence of that expenditure may be worth to him in a 
few years. The expenses which tell the heaviest upon 
a young man's prosperity are very often those which 
beset him at the commencement of his business career ; 
and this fact should be kept in view when seductive 
pictures of prospective advantages are held before him. 
It is well to provide for the future, but, if possible, let 
it be without too great a sacrifice of tlie present. To 
be truly prosperous one ought to be proportionately 
prosperous all the time. 

Thus much in regard to privations and embarrass- 



14 THE HOME. 

ments consequent upon drains upon the dimes of to-day 
in hopes of additions to the dollars to-morrow. 

It is generally true, however, that the greater num- 
ber of those who live in small suburban houses rent 
their dwellings, and for these, if they secure a tolerably 
long lease of the premises, it is not necessary to con- 
sider the probable rise and fall of the value of the 
property. If the house be taken from year to year 
an unexpected increase in rent may make itself un- 
pleasantly felt by the tenant without the possibility 
of any compensating advantage to him, and a pru- 
dent man will therefore endeavor to secure a lease 
upon a property in which he desires to establish a 
home. In such cases he not only makes, with some 
certainty, his calculations as to his expenses for a few 
years, but he will feel much more strongly encouraged 
to make improvements in house and grounds. Too 
many tenants endure privations and inconveniences, 
little and great, because they think it is hardly worth 
while to spend money or labor in improvements which, 
after all, may only be for the benefit of the next tenant. 
But, with a lease, one may plant with some certainty 
that he shall reap, and not another. 

Apart from the question of the value of the pro- 
perty, as many things must be taken into considera- 
tion in regard to the rented house as one that is pur- 
chased. In both cases the house is to be lived in, and 
the tenant would like to be as happy in his home as if 
he were its owner. Consequently questions of location, 
convenience, access, etc., should be considered by the 
tenant as well as the house-owner. 

As a rule, rents in the suburbs are not high in pro- 
portion to the prices necessary to pay for portions of 



LOCATION OF THE HOME. 15 

Louses in the cities. The price of rents depends 
somewhat, although not as much as circumstances 
would seem to demand, upon the means of access from 
the city to the suburb. In many cases rents are quite as 
cheap when one can travel to and fro in a commodious 
steamboat, or in the steam cars, as on those long and 
wearisome hues of horse cars, which now run out of 
almost all our large cities. 

It is probable that in a few years most of these 
cities wiU have improved methods of transit to and from 
the suburbs and outlying country, but, until then, we 
would urge those who care for comfort, health, and a 
tranquil mind, to avoid the necessity of connecting their 
homes and their business by means of the hors€ cars. 
Especially in the summer they may be considered as the 
seed beds of much of the disease of the cities. The 
extra money paid on the railroad or steamboat will 
often be much less than the doctor's biUs which have 
their foundation in the packed boxes on wheels that 
ply up and down the length and breadth of our great 
cities. 

Not only, then, should the time needed to reach your 
home be considered, but the means of reaching it 
should be carefully pondered, before making up your 
mind in regard to its location. 

The same remark would apply to the selection of 
apartments were it not that these are almost always 
within the city limits, where horse cars are the only 
means of reaching them. The evil, therefore, must be 
borne in these instances, if the distance is too great for 
the reserved power of one's legs. 



PART II, 

THE HOUSE FOK THE HOME. 

THINGS TO BE CONSIDERED. 

The m'an who is enabled to build himself a house 
ought to be in this regard a happy man, but it does, 
not always happen that he is such. If he fail to avail 
himself of his opportunities, and finds it out, the sense 
of the " might have been " will be very depressing. He 
is in far more unhappy case than the man who takes up 
his abode in a house all ready to his hand, and who con- 
tents himself, of necessity, with things as he finds them. 

Therefore, let us think a little before we build, and, 
as far as possible, govern circumstances rather than 
submit to them. We have great privileges. Let us not 
allow them to slip away. 

It is not the intent of this volume to give directions 
for putting up a house, or to inform any one of the best 
methods of making windows or doors, or the most de- 
sirable plans for roofs and stairways. The way to 
have a good house is to get good men to build it — men 
who understand their business, whether the building is 
to be of logs or brown-stone. But we may be permitted 
to tell the builders what we want, and it is then their 
duty to give it to us. 



THE HOUSE FOR THE HOME. 17 

And here we will remark that one of the best ad- 
visers in regard to the planning of a house is a man's 
wife — the woman who is to be the mistress of the estab- 
lishment. She it is who will make the greatest use of 
the closets, the stairs, the rooms, the cellars, the garrets, 
the kitchen, the entries, and the pantries ; and she it is 
who should have the most potent voice in their arrange- 
ment. If a mistake is made in regard to these things, 
the wife will be the greatest sufferer. Give her a 
chance then to prevent mistakes. Her knowledge of 
what is needed in house-building to make housekeeping 
perfect will be of great advantage in drawing out the 
plan. 

Nearly every one has an idea of what kind of house 
he would like ; but there is a fashion in houses, and, 
when a builder comes to build, it will often be found 
that this fashion interferes very much with the comfort 
and convenience of the person who is to pay for the 
house and live in it. Take a stand then, and have your 
house as you want it, no matter how the rest of the 
buildings in the block or neighborhood may be con- 
structed. If you prefer to sacrifice comfort to appear- 
ance and uniformity that is your own affair ; but if you 
want to have a house that will be convenient and sen- 
sible, let your builder know that you intend to have it. 
This may necessitate a struggle, but a good house is 
worth struggling for. 

To begin then, insist, when you are consulting about 
your plans, (and these remarks will apply to all houses, 
whether they cost but a thousand or two, or tens of 
thousands,) upon plenty of light and ventilation. It is 
on these fields that your principal battles will be 
fought. The builder will not object to hght and air in 



18 THE HOME. 

the abstract ; but, if narrow windows are the style, he 
will want to put them in ; if open fire-places are not 
included in his private plans, he will want to leave them 
out ; and, if he is in the habit of putting up half a 
story at the top of his houses, he will want to put it on 
yours. But stand up for your own ideas in these re- 
spects. If he is not a man to whom you feel you can 
defer in regard to the execution of the plans, it will be 
better to drop him at once, for you are, in a great de- 
gree, responsible to yourself and family for the suitable- 
ness of the plan. 

There is no reason why there should be so many 
badly built houses. It seldom costs more to put up a 
well-arranged house than one which is unhealthful and 
inconvenient. Why, for instance, should we not have 
good, high rooms at the top of the house ? A few more 
rows of bricks, or a little more framework, windows a 
little higher, and a trifle more plastering, and we have 
rooms instead of cubby-holes. Nothing to us seems to 
indicate more plainly a badly-planned house than little 
hot rooms with low ceilings and contracted windows at 
the top of a house. The comparatively small amount 
of money necessary to make these rooms of a reasonable 
height, fit for the occupation of decent human beings, 
would be as profitably invested as that expended upon 
any other portion of the house. But it is not generally 
the want of money that prompts the building of these 
low, uncomfortable rooms — it is the want of judgment. 

Water in the house is such an immense advantage 
that it is included in all good plans wherever circum- 
stances will permit. If there is a running stream near 
the house, a hydraulic ram may be constructed which 
will force the water all over the house ; but if there is 



THE HOUSE FOR THE HOME. 19 

no such stream, a spring may be found at such an ele- 
vation as to allow the water to flow through pipes into 
the house without any mechanical system of pumping, 
or forcing. And, if there is nothing but a well, a sys- 
tem of pipes, through which the water may be occa- 
sionally pumped into the house, will be found of the 
greatest advantage. Then, there may be a bath-room, 
water in the kitchen, stationary wash tubs, and a variety 
of the conveniences of civilization impossible, or nearly 
so, when the water must be carried by hand into the 
house. 

Even more important than bringing water into the 
house is that of keeping water out of it. A damp house 
is not fit to live in. We may make our roofs and our 
walls tight, and yet our houses may be like grave-yard 
vaults, if the proper precautions against damp walls and 
cellars are not taken during the process of building. In 
the first place the soil on which the house is built should 
be so drained that the foundations will rest absolutely 
on dry ground. Then the walls above the floor level 
should be separated from those below it by some sub- 
stance impervious to water. Otherwise we cannot al- 
ways be certain of dry walls. No drains should ever 
be allowed to run under a dweUing, for any drain may 
leak, and then disease is almost certain. 

These things, apparently the duty of the builder, will 
often be neglected, if the owner of the house does not 
see for himself that they are attended to. 

Again, especiaUy if the house is in the country, the 
question of shade should be considered, and it may be 
that shade without trees must be sought for. AVe can 
plant trees where there are none, but we cannot make 
trees grow to be shade trees for many years. Large 



20 THE HOME. 

forest trees are sometimes transplanted into lawns with 
success, but these cases are exceptional. A piazza is a 
matter more under our control, but it often happens 
that even piazzas require the growth of vines and the 
aid of trees before they become entirely reliable for 
purposes both of shelter and shade. Especially is this 
the case when it is possible only to have them on cer- 
tain sides of the house. Piazzas are often of but par- 
tial advantage to the new house. In such cases it has 
been very sensibly suggested that if the piazzas be sup- 
plemented with awnings, which, at comparatively small 
expense, can be made to reach from the roof to posts 
set up four or five feet outside of the portico, a comfort- 
able shade can be secured at all hours of the day. 
Broad flaps hanging from the edges of these awnings 
will greatly assist in keeping off the rays of the sun. 
A piazza thus protected is a constant comfort in the 
summer, in rain or sunshine. 

When a home is built and furnished, we should en- 
deavor, of course, to guard it from danger ; and its 
greatest danger is from fire. In cities we place our re- 
liance for safety upon the Fire Department, and upon 
careful management and oversight of our stoves and 
grates. But in the country we must generally look to 
ourselves, not only to prevent fires, but to extinguish 
them after they have broken out. And it very often 
happens that, when a house is built in the country, not 
the slightest provision is made for extinguishing tires. 
In fact, when a country residence takes fire, it generally 
burns down ; and the efforts of its occupants and the 
neighbors are confined to saving the furniture and valu- 
ables. It seems almost incredible that persons of or- 
dinary prudence will be content to invest their money 



THE HOUSE FOR THE HOME. 21 

and risk their lives in a house which it may be impossi- 
ble to save from destruction if a coal should fall upon 
the floor, if a lamp should upset, or if any of the mani- 
fold accidents should happen, which the use of fire al- 
ways renders possible. 

And it is the more wonderful that these precautions 
are not taken when we reflect how comparatively little 
they cost. A trifling economy in building, the giving 
up of a bay window, of an ornamental cornice, of an 
extra-handsome fence, or of many an adjunct to a build- 
ing that may be dispensed with without actual discom- 
fort or loss, may enable one to provide the means for 
extinguishing a fire in his house. 

These means are various. If there is a well on the 
premises, a hose long enough to be carried from the 
well to the upper stories of the house with a properly 
arranged force pump, may be sufficient in many cases. 
Sometimes it may be considered best to have a cistern 
kept full of water for use in case of fire, or it may be 
preferred to build a tank in the upper part of the house, 
which may be kept full of rain water by means of tin 
spouts connecting with the roof. But, in any case, the 
recently invented J^ire Extinguishers, which are always 
ready for use, and of the greatest service in case of fires, 
may be provided, and they may be relied upon with 
confidence. They will cost about sixty dollars each, 
and this sum can be included in the estimates of ex- 
penses without increasing the sum total, if it be con- 
sidered that nothing is more important to a house than 
protection against fire. Do without something else, if 
you wiU, but do not do without some sort of fire appa- 
ratus. 

In this connection we would also urge the necessity 



22 THE HOME. 

of a trap-door in the roof of every country house. 
These are often dispensed with because they may possi- 
bly allow rain to leak in around their edges; but if they 
are properly made there need be no danger of this, 
and their use in case of a fire on the roof is incalcul- 
able. With easy access to the roof a man may extin- 
guish with a hose, or a few buckets of water, or some 
wet blankets, a fire that will be entirely beyond his con- 
trol by the time he has clambered up an unsafe and in- 
sufficient ladder, or has cut a hole through his roof. 

It is a very prudent thing to insure ourselves against 
loss by fire, but it is still more prudent to have within 
our own hands the means of preventing such loss. 

There are many other conveniences which might al- 
most be considered necessities, if comfort is our object, 
which will suggest themselves to the mind of the 
thoughtful builder, and which will be of far more use 
and satisfaction, and much less cost, than many of the 
tawdry arrangements with which it is now fashionable 
to adorn the exterior of a house. It is not always 
money that is needed in these cases ; generally it is only 
necessary to be convinced of the advantage of such ad- 
juncts to a pleasant home. The mind that is satisfied 
of their value will seldom find insurmountable diffi- 
culties in the way of their attainment. 

With these remarks, which are intended merely to 
call attention to some of the points desirable in a good 
house, be it grand or humble, and which are generally 
within the means of persons in moderate circumstances, 
we leave the subject of building. 

The person who rents a house is, of course, in a great 
degree the victim of circumstances, but the foregoing 
remarks wiU apply to him in many instances. If he 



THE HOUSE FOR THE HOME. 23 

cannot build, it may be that he can alter, and, if he has 
a lease upon the premises, it may pay him admirably to 
make improvements on the place, such as we have sug- 
gested, even if he is obliged to leave them behind him 
when he changes his residence. Three or four years of 
comfort are not to be undervalued by beings whose 
earthly existence is so limited as ours. 

SEVERAL HOMES IN ONE HOUSE. 

The system of two or more families residing in one 
house, which has long been quite common in Europe, 
has been adopted of late years in some of our large 
cities, particularly in New York, where rents have re- 
cently been very high. In some cities, such as Phila- 
delphia, where there are so many small, convenient 
houses, at reasonable rents, a family of moderate means 
can readily have a dwelling to itself, and there the 
idea of several families living in one house is re- 
ceived with great disfavor. But in New York it is al- 
most impossible for any one to rent a whole house who 
does not possess a handsome income, and therefore it 
is often absolutely necessary to be content with a part 
of one. In many cases, provided the families are con- 
genial, and the dwelling will admit of separate house- 
hold arrangements, the joint occupants of a house live 
together with much comfort and harmony : but to per- 
sons unaccustomed to the plan it is often a long time 
before a part of a house will possess the cherished 
characteristics of a home. But familiarity not only 
breeds contempt, but content ; and when we come to 
the co-partnership system, and lind that so many re- 
spectable jDeople besides ourselves have adopted it, we 



24 THE HOME. 

become reconciled to the plan, and consider our part 
of the house our home as much as if we occupied the 
whole of it. 

There is a system of building houses, arranged in 
flats according to the French method, where every floor 
is a dwelling by itself, with all the modern conveniences, 
and where the different tenants are as private as per- 
sons living in separate houses on the same street, which 
will, .if generally adopted, go far to remove the objec- 
tions to the plan of congregated households ; but at 
present these " flats " are generally held at such high 
rates that it is often almost as cheap to rent a house as 
one of them. It is true that they are frequently more 
convenient than a house would be for which the same 
rent is charged ; but until they are constructed in such 
a way that they can be had at more reasonable rents, 
they will not become popular with people of slender 
incomes. 

But, if it is possible to obtain one of these flats or 
floors that has been constructed on the improved 
models, it will prove to be wonderfully convenient and 
satisfactory to families who must live in a house with 
others. Parlors, dining-rooms, bed-rooms, kitchens, 
and evei-y modern improvement will be found upon the 
floor that is rented, and a household may be even more 
private than if it occupied a house with neighbors on 
each side of it, and on the opposite side of the street. 

The French flat plan may bo said to be yet in its in- 
fancy here ; but if it ever attains in our cities the per- 
fection to which it has been brought in Europe, where 
it is united with various plans of cooperative household 
economy, it will go very far towards mitigating many 



THE HOUSE FOB THE HOME. 



25 



of 'the nuisances and reducing many of the expenses ol 
life in a crowded metropolis. 

It may be well to state to those who are not familiar 
with the mode of living to which we have referred, that 
none of our remarks apply to what are generally known 
as tenement houses. A French flat house and a tene- 
ment house are as different as a gentleman and a boot- 
black. 



PART Til, 
FUENISHING THE HOUSE. 

TUB rARL O R. 

The kitchen should be the first room furnished ; then 
the dining-room ; next the bedroom, and halls ; and, 
lastly, the parlor. This is the order of importance, be- 
cause eating is absolutely necessary to existence, and 
refreshing sleep is also necessary, while one might live 
to a healthy old age without a parlor. The dining- 
room will answer for the purpose of a parlor in cases of 
necessity, but this arrangement is not desirable, and is 
not recommended where there are means to furnish a 
separate room. But do not have a poorly furnished 
kitchen, and a meagre dining-room, or an uncomfort- 
able bed for the sake of a parlor. 

It is doubtful whether the room we are about to de- 
scribe is a parlor. It certainly is not in the common 
acceptation of the word in America, although very ap- 
plicable in its original signification. For the English 
word parlor comes from the French parloir — a name 
bestowed upon that room in a monastery, set apart as a 
reception room for visitors — and that again from the 
verb parler, to converse. And our room will inevitably 
become the talking-room of the house. But, in this 



97 

FUENISHINa THE HOUSE. ^> 

country the parlor is regarded as the " company-room " 
eS <i-tinct from the reception-room, correspond ng 
wih the English drawing-room, and the French soion 
Ind is appled indiscriminately to the long suite of 
oft/l^anVappointedsaloonsofthemUlionn^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
to the ten-feet-by-ten best room of the fifth story of a 

tenement house. , 

And was there ev«r an American woman, who, fur 
niii a house, did not first lay aside the money for 
the parlor? A parlor there must be, even if aftei it 
there come the deluge. And, when this much-desired 
rtom s Complete in aU the splendors of^ Brussels car- 
peting, brocatelle, and walnut, the children must no 
Ly ^ it, the husband must not smoke in it, or lounge 
on thlo fa,the sunshine must never look m even the 
Tesh air is unwelcome, because the open windows usher 
iL he flies, and a fly buzzmg about that '---u^f ^ 
Toom would inspire as much horror as the advent of a 
chattering girl of seventeen into a La Trappe monas- 
tr When such a room is opened on company occ.- 
2s the dampness strikes to the bones of the guests 
Xe the touch-me-not cleanliness, and frigid digmy 
If the grand furniture settle on their spirits with 
tie weight of lead. In country places it often happens 
Sat this room is not used half-a-dozen times a year and 
meanwhile, the family room, where all the ^-^^^'^^^ 
■ is held where the children and grown-up people as- 
semSe'around the evening lamp, and where the min^ 
of the former receive deeper impressions than in aU 
other places, is the kitchen, or dining-room or possAly 
some barely-furuished sitting-room, suggestive of noth- 
ing but discomfort and ughness. 

It need not be inferred from these remarks that we 



28 THE HOME. 

consider a private family sitting-room an undesirable 
thing". It is always a comfort where there is money 
sufficient for furnishing several rooms, and is useful for 
a withdrawing room when company becomes a weari- 
ness, and also as a general work-room ; but still let the 
parlor be the family room, and if you have a sitting- 
room, let it be a prettily furnished and attractive apart- 
ment, and not a poverty-stricken make-shift. This kind 
of room is almost a necessity where a family is large, 
and entertains much company, for it is not to be expected 
that every member of a large family will always have 
the time or inclination to entertain visitors, and out of 
a wide circle of acquaintances there is only a select few 
that we care to admit to the family retreat. But we do 
protest against taking the lion's share of the funds set 
apart for furnishing to adorn a room intended only for 
" company." 

The room which we are about to describe is good 
enough for a parlor, and not too good for a sitting- 
room. We reverse the order of furnishing rooms that 
we recommended in the opening paragraph^ beginning 
our descriptions with the apartment of greatest dignity, 
because thus we will avoid some repetitions that would 
otherwise be unavoidable. 

Let us commence with the ceiling. It is to be hoped, 
for the sake of comfort, as well as of beauty, that this 
is high, but if, unfortunately, it should be low, do not 
have it of a dark tint. White is most generally used, 
because it looks well with all kinds of wall papers, but 
it is not always desirable. A delicate pink, or buff, 
throws down a more agreeable and softer light on 
bright days, if the paper hangings will allow these 
tints to be used. If the ceiling is high it may have a 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 29 

little deeper tinge, if desired — rose or maize color — but 
even here care should be taken that it is not dark in 
effect. The ceihng should always be lighter than the 
walls. 

In regard to wall coverings, paper hangings are the 
most popular, and are used everywhere. Even the 
rough interiors of log cabins in the far West are often 
covered with illustrated newspapers, thus economically 
combining paper hangings and pictures. There is, we 
think, no style of wall paper to be compared as to 
beauty with the plain-tint paper. The effect is fine, and 
yet unobtrusive ; it does not dwarf the size of a room 
as pattern paper often does ; on it pictures show to 
good advantage ; it corresponds with any style of fur- 
nishing ; and it is always in fashion — or, rather, it never 
looks bizarre, no matter what particular fashion may 
happen to be popular. There is a prevailing opinion 
that it soils easily, but this is a mistake ; it will keep 
clean as long as any paper. 

There is a style, forty inches wide, beautifully fin- 
ished, with a fine soft gloss that gives the wall the ap- 
pearance of being painted. This sells at a dollar a 
piece. There are other styles, both glazed and un- 
glazed, some very pretty and of excellent quality for 
sixty cents a piece. 

It is not the fashion now to have an unbroken sur- 
face of wall from the ceiling to the base-board. We 
are, in many matters, returning to old methods, having 
discovered that our ancestors were not quite devoid of 
taste, and, among other things, have adopted the wain- 
scotings that were their pride. And, in rooms that are 
not wainscoted, we also follow their fashion in a like 
case, and put around the wall, about three feet above 



30 THE HOME. 

the floor, a moulding called a chair-rail. This serves 
the double purpose of breaking up the blank uniformity 
of much space with the same coloring, and of protect- 
ing the walls from being scratched and rubbed by the 
furniture. 

This moulding can be used very effectively with the 
plain tint paper by having a dark tint below it, and a 
lighter one above ; a rich yellow-brown below, and 
cream color or amber above the chair-rail ; or a heavy 
purple-grey below, and a hght stone color stbove ; and 
other combinations may be made with finer effects than 
these suggested, by considering the situation of the 
room in regard to sunshine, and various other matters. 
These plain-tint papers should have a rather narrow 
border, with rich, bright colors (something in the style 
of the arabesque or scroll patterns is most desirable) on 
very dark grounds, black generally being the handsom- 
est. A narrow gilt bead border for an edging, between 
the paper and bordering, will be a very pretty addi- 
tion. 

The moulding for the chair-rail should be tacked on 
where the two papers are joined. Moulding is sold ex- 
pressly -for this purpose, but something suitable can be 
bought from any cabinet-maker or carpenter for five or 
six cents a yard for common pine, and ten and twelve 
cents for finer woods. The former j)resents a very 
handsome appearance when stained with black walnut 
stain. 

The narrow gilt bead bordering is eight to twelve 
cents a yard, and the rich bordering, described above, 
from ten to twenty cents ; but a perfectly plain border- 
ing, in rich dark colors, very suitable for this style of 
papering, can be purchased for five cents a yard. 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 81 

But this plain tint for wall hangings is a matter of 
individual taste, and, if you prefer a figured paper, get 
a small, cheerful pattern on a very light ground for a 
room that does not enjoy much sunshine. And it is 
best to get rather a light paper where the room is 
sunny, for in winter the brightness is no objection, and 
in summer the room is kept partially darkened during 
the heat of the day. Decided greens and blues are very 
trying to the complexion. A very pretty style of 
figured paper is all of one color in different tints. But 
if this is of very light shades, it is apt to be character- 
less, and gives no relief to furniture and window hang- 
ings. Stiflly designed figures, great bouquets, and wild 
and wandering patterns, on the other hand, possess en- 
tirely too much character. It is difficult, on the whole, 
to select figured paper that will altogether satisfy you 
after it is put on, and if you buy it solely with reference 
to its individual beauty, you are likely to be disap- 
pointed. You are to consider the effect of your walls 
as a whole, and not in detail ; and as much taste is 
needed in designing them as any part of the house 
furnishing. 

Gilded paper is inartistic, although for several years 
it had the sanction of fashion, and is still used to some 
extent. Stripes add to the apparent height of a room, 
but are stiff and awkward, and the eye soon wearies of 
them. Be careful about the greens in wall papers, for 
many of them are colored with poisons. 

If your room has a chair-rail, the figured paper should 
only be used above it. The same may be said of striped 
paper, unless it is in imitation of wood, in which case 
it can be used below with good effect. 

Panel-paper is formed on the walls by using plain- 



32 THE HOME. 

tint paper in stone colors, and paneling it As^itli narrow 
bordering that is made for the purpose. This is an ex- 
pensive style, and is hardly suited to rooms of ordinary 
size ; but it is very pretty for the lower part of the wall, 
below the chair-rail, as a suggestion of wainscoting. 

The papers sold by paper-hangers as parlor grades 
are from one to three dollars a piece ; but satin paper 
of excellent quality can be bought for fifty cents ; and 
we have seen very pretty walls hung with papers that 
only cost twenty cents a roll. 

In furnishing rented houses, the papering is not 
usually taken into consideration, as that is the business 
of the landlord. But, if you find an ugly paper on 
your parlor walls, do not let it stay there because the 
landlord refuses to re-paper, when you can have it done 
so cheaply. There is no need that you should be tor- 
mented day after day by an unsightly object. It will 
be better to replace it with one of inferior quality and 
pretty design, than to have the pleasant family room 
disfigured with a leaden colored wall, or a staring, 
straggling pattern, or some style that is tawdry and vul- 
gar in effect. 

Our best wall papers are French importations ; but 
the American papers are very good ; they last well, and 
are made in beautiful tints and designs. The worst 
that can be said of them is that they are not quite 
equal to the French. Some of them (and pretty ones) 
sell as low as twelve cents a roll. 

Wood hangings are much more beautiful than paper, 
and it is claimed that they are much more durable. 
Judging from the fact of their construction and their 
costliness, they should last a very long time ; but, 
being a comparatively recent invention, this point 



FURNISHING OP THE HOUSE. 88 

has not yet been properly tested. They make the most 
beautiful wall covering next to the still more costly 
painting and frescoing ; for the woods are not only 
beautiful in themselves, but in putting them on there is 
opportunity for the display of artistic taste in the pro- 
per selection of shades and colors, and in arranging 
designs for the paneling. Those who sell these hang- 
ings will send their workmen to put them up, if desired, 
but this is not necessary, as they are not more difficult 
to hang than pajoer. 

The prices of American woods range from one dollar 
to one and a half per thirty-six square feet, and the 
foreign woods are much more costly. The latter are 
not much used, except in getting up very elaborate de- 
signs, where they are arranged in centre-pieces and 
mouldings with fine effect. But these things can only 
be properly done by an expert, and are too ornate for 
anything but very magnificent mansions. The ordinary 
grades sold are in American woods, cut very thin, and 
backed with paper, on which the paste is spread. The 
paste is made expressly for this purpose, and sold with 
the wood. The paneling, made of very narrow strips 
of wood, is three or four cents a yard, and is tacked to 
the wall. 

Hangings of curled or bird's-eye maple, with panel- 
ings, and cornice of walnut, would be pretty for a par- 
lor ; chestnut and butternut for a dining-room ; and 
oak and walnut for halls and libraries. Walnut hang- 
ings should be used only in very large rooms. These 
woods can also be used plain, without the panels. Some 
are striped, walnut and maple, chestnut and oak, etc., 
but woods laid in this way seem more suitable for floors 
than walls. 



34: THE HOME. 

A great advantage that this wall covering possesses 
is that it can be washed as often as desirable without 
fear of injury. But, much as we admire it, we would 
not recommend that a whole house be hung with it at 
first. Better try it in one room, and see if it stands 
the tests of dampness, heat, and the various action of 
our changeful climate, for new things should be re- 
ceived with caution. 

These hangings are yet too costly too be generally 
used, but may be employed with kalsomined or papered 
walls to imitate a wainscot with the chair-rail for the 
upper moulding. 

The wainscoting proper costs a dollar a foot, and is 
three feet wide. It is made of thin wood, but much 
thicker than the hangings, is not backed with anything, 
and is tacked to the wall. It was made originally as 
an adjunct to the wood hangings but is now used with 
all styles of walls, and adds greatly to the richness and 
beauty of a room. 

Frescoed and painted walls will retain their beauty 
for many years, and can be washed and kept clean. 
In panels and pictorial designs they are very beautiful 
if well executed, but are, of course, very costly. The 
plain tints are very desirable for ordinary dwellings, 
and are not very expensive. But still they are more 
costly than papering, and painters can only be found 
in cities or large towns. 

After the walls are decorated to your taste, put 
something on them ; for bare walls, however pretty, 
need relief. Mirrors will at once suggest themselves. 
By all means get them, if you have the means. They 
add greatly to the handsome appearance of a parlor j 
and two placed opposite, will convert an insignificant 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 35 

room into quite a spacious apartment, apparently. 
Mantel mirrors too are beautiful in themselves, and in 
the effects they produce. But do not get cheap ones, 
for then your room will look poor and mean, in spite 
of all the care you may otherwise bestow upon it. 
Handsome mirrors are costly ornaments, and, unless 
you have a pretty large allowance for furnishing, you 
had better dismiss them from your mind for a year or 
two. If you have a choice between a mirror and pic- 
tures, choose the latter without hesitation. A fine 
painting will go much farther towards furnishing your 
parlor. True, the paintings are also costly ; but, fortu- 
nately, chromos, which reproduce them so faithfully, 
are within the reach of all. If you are not a judge of 
pictures, get a friend who has some knowledge in such 
matters to select your chromos and engravings, and 
do not fall into the mistake of thinking that one chrome 
will do as well as another, for some are nothing but 
daubs. And the same remark may be applied to 
paintings, and in their case, a high price is not an in- 
variable criterion of merit. 

It is not easy to give a scale of prices for pictures of 
any kind, as these depend upon so many contingencies, 
but good chromos of fine paintings may be bought 
in small and medium sizes, framed in gilt, as low as 
from $6. 00 to $12.00. And here it may be said, en 
passant, that home-made frames of leather, pine-cones, 
etc., though they will do very well for engravings and 
photographs, when others cannot be obtained, do not 
suit chromos. Persons who know little about art ima- 
gine that if the picture be fine the frame is of small 
importance ; but artists will tell' you that the beauty of 
a picture depends very much upon the frame — not that 



36 THE HOME. 

it should be magnificent, but suitable. Let your chrome 
have some warm coloring about it, and, if it is a figure 
picture, be sure it is one that the eye will not weary of. 
Some most admirable paintings treat of such unpleasant 
subjects that they should be placed only in picture gal- 
leries. It is well for the mind sometimes to dwell upon 
the heroism of martyrs, but to have the reminder con- 
stantly before our eyes is not agreeable, and far from 
being improving. The same may be said of death- 
bed scenes and battle pieces, both of which are favor- 
ite subjects, if we may judge by the frequency with 
which they appear on parlor walls. 

Besides the chromo, have one or two fine engravings 
if possible. You need not get very costly ones, and 
they can be glazed and framed in pretty rustic frames 
for a small sum. 

Don't put dabs of card photographs about on your 
walls, or dispose of them in groups, or let them be seen 
at all, except when the leaves of your album are 
opened. 

There are other things besides pictures for adorning 
walls and giving beauty to a room. Two or three 
brackets with a little statuette, or vase of artistic de- 
sign, or flower vase on them. Perhaps one somewhere 
from which trails a vine. Brackets may be purchased 
at almost any price, from seventy-five cents to ten dol- 
lars, and more ; and very pretty vases, statuettes, and 
a variety of fancy things can be got at small expense. 

And, while speaking of ornaments, we must not for- 
get those very beautiful and graceful things, hanging 
baskets. These can often be made of materials at 
hand, at no expense whatever. And there are also 
Jlower-stands, aquariums, Wardian cases, etc., which 



FUKNISHING THE HOME. 87 

can be made by some ingenious member of the family, 
or by a neighboring cabinetmaker, at a small cost. 

The following is the best way to get these little 
" fancies." If you have a thousand dollars with which 
to furnish your house, go over the price-list you have 
made out for the different rooms, and strike out here 
and there some article that is of small account, and 
make up your mind that on this or that thing you 
will expend a little less money, and be satisfied with 
something less pretentious. You will find that in this 
way you will get a neat little sum for ornamenting your 
rooms without sacrificing anything useful. 

Before casting our eyes down to the floor, we will 
furnish the windows. If the house has been built un- 
der your own directions, of course these have inside 
shutters, (or bhnds.) But if they have them not, you 
will, first of all, need shades, even if you have outside 
shutters. Very many housekeepers use only shades ; 
some because they think curtains must necessarily be 
costly ; some because of the trouble of packing away 
woolen curtains in summer, or ''doing up" washable 
materials ; and others because " curtains only gather 
dust" To the fii'st class we say that they labor under 
a mistake ; to he second, that we cannot have any- 
thing that is very desirable unless we are willing to 
take some trouble ; and to the third that careful ma- 
nagement will prevent the evil they dread, and, more- 
over, that to be consistent they should take up all their 
carpets, for it is impossible to find a more indefatigable 
dust-gatherer than a carpet. If shades are the only 
hangings for the windows, they should be the painted 
shades in solid colors with borders. Those with figures 
and laiidscai^es on them are in bad taste. The bor- 



BS THE HOME. 

dered shades sell at from two dollars upward, with pateut 
rollers. Dark blues and stone colors are popular hues 
in these shades, but they throw, when drawn down, a 
most dispiriting gloom over the apartment. Light 
stone-colors, buff, and shades in fancy browns are the 
most desirable, and, when purchasing, remember the 
color of carpet and walls, and do not get a violent con- 
trast. If, however, you are going to hang curtains 
or lambrequins over them, let the shades be of 
Scotch Holland linen. You can buy these ready- 
made, or make them yourself. The linen can be pur- 
chased, yard wide, for thirty cents a yard. The rollers 
and slats of wood for the bottom, slides, cord, and tas- 
sels will also be needed. These fixtures and trimmings 
cost from forty to seventy-five cents a window. Be 
exact in your measurements, and make and hang them 
carefully. The patent rollers are much more handy 
than the cords and slides, and last a long time, whereas 
the fixtures in common use soon get out of order. The 
patent rollers cost one dollar apieca White is the 
best color for these shades, and the trimmings should 
be selected in reference to the general coloring of the 
room. Blue fades sooner than any other color. 

And, in this connection, we beg of you not to tie the 
tassels up in little muslin or knitted bags in order to 
preserve the color. They will not fade for some time, 
and faded tassels, which only show that the inmates of 
the room care more for the blessed sunlight than for 
their fifty cent tassels, look far better than these vulgar 
little bags. 

In furnishing a room, curtains are of the first im- 
portance. Better get a Brussels instead of a velvet 
carpet, or an Ingrain in place of a Brussels, than to 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 39 

have your windows bare of curtains. Without them a 
room filled with furniture looks unfinished, and with 
them a poorly-furnished parlor gains something of 
grace and style. 

Woolen reps are much used for curtains in winter. 
They are from two to four dollars a yard ; and, if put 
up by an upholsterer, from twenty to forty dollars a 
window. Their heavy folds are rich and elegant, and 
they add greatly to the warmth and cosiness of rooms 
with a cold exposure. But they also help to darken the 
room, and to make a short winter day seem still shor- 
ter. Rooms that are lived in, unless quite large, will be 
more pleasant with window hangings of Hghter mate- 
rials. 

Silk curtains are only suitable for very handsomely 
furnished apartments ; should be made and put up by 
an upholsterer ; and will cost sixty dollars and upward 
for each window. 

Lambrequins are now almost universally used, and, 
when gracefully draped over curtains of the same or 
corresponding material, increase the beauty of the effect. 
But the plain, stiffly-scalloped, heavy woolen lambre- 
quins, without a fold or festoon to break their rigid 
exactness, that so frequently we see hung over shades 
or lace curtains, are ugly in the exti-eme, and the two 
materials put together in that way are as well suited to 
each other as a merino basque is to a lace over -skirt. 

Lace is the most beautiful, graceful, airy, and light of all 
curtain material, and looks equally well with the matting, 
and chintz covered furniture of summer, and with the 
warm colored carpets, and heavy furnishing of winter. 
Real lace can be bought now ol fine quality and hand- 
some styles, from eighteen to twenty-five dollars a yard. 



40 THE HOME. 

although there are certain styles that sell at " fancy " 
prices. It is not as much used now as formerty, even 
among the wealthy, because the Nottingham laces of 
the present day are so fine, soft, and fleecy that it is 
difficult to tell them from the real laces, and the designs 
on them are generally much more elaborate and beau- 
tiful. The prices range from one dollar and a half to 
fifteen dollars a yard. Those at the first named price 
are very pretty, and not " cheap-looking ;" and quite 
handsome curtains can be bought at from three to five 
dollars per yard. The difficulty of doing up lace cur- 
tains and preserving that soft fleeciness which is their 
chief beauty, interferes with their popularity. In cities 
they are usually sent to persons who make it their busi- 
ness, but this is rather expensive, and, in the country, 
impossible. But you can do them up to look hke new 
ones if you know how, and are careful.* 

You can have very pretty and graceful parlor cur- 
tains (and these are especially suited to country homes) 
at a very small expense, by buying a sufficient quantity 
of Swiss muslin, at fifty cents a yard, and a few yards 
of heavy silk cord. In measuring your windows, re- 
member that the curtains should fall to the floor, and 
allow a little for looping back. Get a couple of extra 
yards, or more if necessary, for the lambrequin, and 
loop it with cords in some graceful fashion. Also loop 
the curtain back, at about three feet above the floor. 

The following design of a Nottingham lace curtain 
that we lately saw, was artistic and graceful ; and ele- 
gant without being suggestive of costliness. 

Over the lace curtain, hung in the usual fashion, was 
a lambrequin of the finest kind of chintz, called satine, 

* Directions for doing up lace curtains will be found on page 147. 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 41 

with the lace laid plainly over it. This softened the 
figures and colors of the chintz without making them 
less distinct. Across the bottom of this was a cotton 
fringe, two inches deep, corresponding in color with the 
saiine. The lambrequin was then drawn up to hang in 
heavy folds over the curtain. This style, including cor- 
nice of nice finish and moderate width, cost eighteen 
dollars a window. 

If you live in an old-fashioned house, where there is 
a wide space between the top of the window and the 
ceiling, you will find lambrequins very useful to hang 
above the windows, in which case, of course, the mate- 
rial must be heavy enough to conceal the wall. The 
cornice can then be placed high, and the curtains made 
as long as for larger windows. 

Cornices are of gilt, or walnut and gilt. Both styles 
sell at the same prices, from three and a half to seven 
dollars apiece, ordinarily ; although they run up as high 
as twenty-five dollars. 

The patent extension cornices are of two kinds : the 
Adjustable, which may be made to fit any window by a 
little unscrewing and altering ; and the Telescope, 
which can be fitted to a window by drawing it in or out 
like a telescope. These are from five and a half to fif- 
teen dollars apiece. 

Carpets, being the most expensive articles in house- 
furnishing, should be selected with great carefulness as to 
quality, that they may last long ; and as to pattern, that 
it be not such as will soon become wearisome to the 
eyes. 

Medallion carpets, large figures, bouquets of flowers, 
geometrical designs, baskets of roses, stripes, are all un- 
desirable. Any "set" figure becomes tiresome. The 



42 THE HOME. 

light carpets, of pearl and stone colors, with gay bor- 
ders, that are now so fashionable, admit of any style or 
coloring of furniture, and harmonize with all the de- 
sirable hues for walls and windows, while the figures of 
the same shade woven into them are scarcely notice- 
able. But it is of doubtful expediency to buy a carpet 
of so very decided a style, as it will look bizarre as 
soon as the fashion passes away. A bordered carpet 
makes a room look smaller than it is. Scrolls, small 
interlaced figures, a tracery of vines, or an arabesque 
pattern (if not large and sjDreading) are desirable because 
they do not obtrude themselves upon our notice, and 
therefore remain in favor for years. The latter, with its 
graceful lines and figures, without beginning or end, 
cannot well become tiresome. If a gay floor covering 
is desired, there is nothing more beautiful than the Per- 
sian carpets, where the richest colors run riot in a lovely 
confusion, without ever becoming glaring or obtrusive. 

As you select your window hangings or trimmings 
with reference to the coloring of your carpet, so your 
carpet should be chosen to harmonize with your furni- 
ture-covering. If you have fixed your fancy upon hair 
cloth, or very dark colored rep, your carpet should be 
gay to relieve the sombre effect. If, on the contrary, 
your furniture-covering is gay, the carpet should be 
toned down to quite a dark effect. For the medium 
colors generally used for furnishing, the medium shades 
are most suitable on the floor, and, in this case, as also 
in that of the gay furniture, a carpet with one prevail- 
ing tint is the prettiest. Browns offer a fine relief to 
green, blue, or crimson, only, in the case of the latter, 
they should not be red browns. It is not advisable to 
have in your carpet a great deal of white for a room 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 43 

that is much used ; and, on the other hand, a very- 
dark carpet " shows the dirt," as housekeepers say, quite 
as soon as a light one. 

Of carpet material we have a great variety, both for- 
eign and of home manufacture. We make carpets here 
in nearly all the grades that are imported, and those of 
standard manufacture are very good indeed, and are 
durable, although not quite equal to the foreign, on ac- 
count of the inferiority of our dyes. Any one outside 
of the trade would find it difficult to decide between an 
American Ingrain of the best quality and an English. 
Whatever material you decide upon, let it be good of 
its kind, for cheap carpets are poor economy. Tapes- 
try, backed with hemp, will soon wear threadbare, and 
Ingrain which you can almost see daylight through when 
you hold it up, or which is woven with cotton chain, 
will not wear long enough to pay for the trouble of 
making and putting it down. A carpet should be 
thick, closely woven, soft and pliable. Wilton and 
English Brussels are considered the most durable of 
all carpet materials, but they are too costly for common 
use, and a good Three-ply or Ingrain will last a very 
long time with moderate care. 

The following is a list of the grades of carpeting 
usually called for, with the ordinary prices per yard : 

English Brussels $2.50 

Wilton, (which is cut Brussels) 4.00 

English Tapestry 1.35 to 1.50 

Velvet, (which is cut Tapestry) 3.00 

Three-ply 1.95 

English Ingrain 1.75 

American Ingrain 1.25 to 1.50 

French Axminster 3.00 to 6.00 



44 THE HOME. 

English Asminster . . » 400 to 6.00 

American Axminster 3.00 to 5.00 

For the room we are considering, either Enghsh 
Brussels, Three-ply, or English Ingrain is suitable : 
Tapestry is not serviceable enough. In the city it will 
be best, perhaps, to have Brussels, but it is not a neces- 
sity even there. Ingrain, with pretty window hangings, 
pictures, and ornaments, will make the room look more 
attractive than Brussels with accompanying destitution ; 
and your friends, in their admiration of the general 
tasteful arrangement, will overlook the enormity of an 
Ingrain carpet. 

In a country parlor. Three-ply and Ingrain are the 
rule instead of the exceptions, and therefore you will 
excite no surprise by laying one of these on your floor. 
Do not be too ambitious, then, to have Brussels, if you 
value your peace of mind, for mud and dust are some- 
times inevitable, and you will frequently groan in spirit 
over your expensive carpet. The Ingrain is easily 
swept, can be taken up and shaken without very great 
trouble, and can be " turned " when the right side be- 
gins to look the worse for wear, whereas a Brussels car- 
pet loses its beauty as soon as the surface is worn. 

Carpet lining should be placed under your carpet, as 
it will last much longer if put down in this way. This 
is made of fine wool, laid between layers of paper, 
stretched or quilted. It is moth proof. It is fifteen 
cents a yard, and is yard wide. 

One or two gay rugs, if the carpet be sober-colored, 
or sober ones if gay-colored, give artistic points of 
color and effect to the room. 

In the spring, carpets should be taken up, well shaken 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 45 

and beaten, (but not hanged,) the dust should be beaten 
out of the linings, the latter rolled around the carpets, 
and the whole sewed up in coarse linen, and put away 
in a dry place until the autumn. 

It is not desirable to have carpets on the floor in 
summer. They get filled with dust, they add much to 
the warmth of a room, and if there is any taint in the 
air, the woolen carpet is apt to seize upon and hold it. 
Some writers on health contend that they should never 
be used, for sanitary reasons. But in our country, and 
certainly in those States where we have such bitter cold 
weather, carpets, or something similar, will probably be 
used for all time in the winter season, not only for the 
warmth they actually impart, but for the feeling of cosy 
comfort that their very appearance suggests. But in 
summer we need something cooler, and that is not so 
retentive of dust and floating exhalations. 

Matting is the most popular floor covering for sum- 
mer. Serviceable Canton matting, of coarse texture, 
can be bought as low as thirty-five cents a yard, and a 
very good quality for fifty-five. These are a yard wide. 
Other widths are a yard and a quarter, and a yard and 
a half, with prices in proportion. Narrow matting, less 
than a yard, being scarce, is higher priced. 

The custom, that many persons follow, of tacking the 
breadths of matting to the floor, spoils the floor and is 
destructive to the matting. Every tack driven in and 
pulled out breaks at least one straw. These Canton 
mattings are made on boats, and they are woven to- 
gether in pieces two yards long. These short pieces 
are joined together on the shore into lengths of forty 
yards. Now, where these two-yard pieces are joined 
they should be sewed across and across, to keep the 



46 THE HOME. 

joints from opening. Then sew the breadths together^ 
and tack it to the floor in the same way that you treat 
a carpet. Mattings made in this way will last fully 
twic3 as long as where they are tacked in every breadth 
A good matting should last six or seven years. 

Although matting is so popular, some families do 
not like it at all. AVithin the last few years a disposi- 
tion to return to the bare floors of our ancestors — at 
least for the summer — has manifested itself, and many 
new houses are laid with handsome floorings to pre- 
vent the necessity of covering them with matting. This 
has given rise to the invention of Wood Carpet- 
ing for the benefit of those whose houses are already 
built with floors that are scarcely presentable. This is 
made of wiell-seasoned and kiln-dried hard woods, cut 
into stri]3S one and an eighth to one and three eighths 
inches wide, and a quarter of an inch thick, and glued 
on to heavy cotton drill. The wood is then planed 
and oiled. It rolls up like an oil-cloth ; can be sent 
anywhere, and can be laid by any good carpenter. It 
is nailed down with one and a quarter finishing nails. 
It can be ^Dut down to look like ordinary flooring of 
one kind of fine wood, or laid with fancy designs, cen- 
tre-pieces, etc., patterns for which will be furnished, if 
desired. 

It is claimed for this carpeting that it is insect proof; 
that it is so tight the dust cannot penetrate it, and that 
it is so thin it does not interfere with door sills, hearth, 
register, etc., and also that it will last a very long time. 
But as it has been used only some three or four 
years, this last point cannot have been satisfactorily 
tested. 

The standard goods in wood carpeting are plain 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 47 

straight strips of one wood alone, such as Ash, Oak, 
or Walnut, or alternate strips of different woods. These 
(yard wide) sell at two dollars a yard. The fancy 
styles sell by the square foot, from fifty cents to one 
dollar and a quarter. 

Handsome borders in various widths and styles, such 
as Gothic, Grecian, Eope, Chain, etc., are also manu- 
factured. The usual widths are from five to ten inches, 
and sell from twenty to sixty cents a foot. 

Having fastened down our floor-covering, we will 
move in the furniture. A parlor suit, as sold at the 
furniture warerooms, consists of a sofa, one large easy- 
chair, and one smaller, and four ordinary chairs. Such 
a suit ol solid walnut, plainly finished, covered with 
good all-wool rep, with upholstered seats and backs 
for the easy-chairs, and upholstered seats for the other 
chairs, can be bought as low as eighty-five dollars. One 
with a little finer finish, and more ornamentation, for 
one hundred dollars. A hundred and fifty dollars will 
buy quite a handsome suit, inlaid with French walnut 
and with ebony mouldings. The lowest price for silk 
rep covering about three hundred dollars a suit. 

These suits will be varied at the option of the pur- 
chaser, and it will be well to decline the four chairs, 
which are never pretty and generally uncomfortable, 
and substitute two light reception-chairs, a sewing- 
chair, and one other of fancy straw, or any kind you 
like. A room furnished with only the regulation suit 
looks stiff, and unhomelike. Beside these there is a 
great variety of easy- chairs, rocking-chairs, (both Ame- 
rican and Eussian,) window chairs, tete-a-tetes, lounge 
chairs, etc., etc., from which to make a further selec- 
tion:, if your plan allow. A sewing-chair is included in 



48 THE HOME. 

the above list because our room is both parlor and sit- 
ting-room. Where the room is used only for company 
it will, of course, be omitted. 

Furniture upholstered with hair cloth comes at the 
same prices as the rep. But this sombre, shining, 
slippery stuff, is, happily, nearly out of fashion. Woolen 
reps are most used for chair and sofa coverings, and the 
different qualities range from about two to four dollars 
a yard ; and the silk reps from six to eight dollars. For 
costly coverings there are brocatelle, satin and velvet. 
In a state apartment chintzes are inadmissible, except 
for summer use, but in this home room the beautiful 
chintzes now manufactured will be very desirable, and 
are peculiarly appropriate in the country. They are 
from thirty-five cents to a dollar and a quarter a yard, 
and are seen in every possible design, from the most 
delicate flowers, and gracefully swinging vines, to the 
shepherd, dog, and crook under the spreading trees, 
and his sheep sleeping on the hill-side ; enormous 
bunches of flowers, gorgeous birds, and the fattest 
Cupids in impossible attitudes. These pictures and 
huge flowers are revivals of the styles in which our 
grandmothers delighted, and which have come down to 
us in bed-quilts and stray scraps. The higher priced 
of these goods, called cretonnes and satines, are finely 
finished ; the latter have a gloss like satin. 

In woolen reps green and crimson are the best colors 
for wear ; and there are beautiful shades in brown 
that wear very well. Blue fades very soon. The 
striped reps make handsome coverings for a single chair, 
but not for a whole suit. It is not necessary to cover 
all the articles of furniture with the same color ; a hi- 
tle variety gives a more pleasing effect ; only be careful 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 49 

that you select colors that look well together. If the 
carpet be very gay, however, it is better taste not to 
vary much the coloring of the furniture. 

A. centre-table adds to the home-look of a room, and 
is, indeed, a necessity where the family gatherings are 
held. Walnut tables with marble tops range from 
sixteen to thirty -five dollars, according to size of table 
and kind of marble. But a much cheaper table of 
painted wood will look quite as attractive with a pretty 
cover on it, and a lamp, with its softly-shaded evening 
light, inviting readers and workers. 

A lounge is a very comfortable thing to have in your 
sitting-room, only don't have it too handsome to be 
lounged on. 

A corner Etagere, or What Not, will cost from five to 
eight dollars ; a side Etagere from twelve to sixteen. 
These are sometimes used as book-shelves, instead of 
receptacles for knick-knacks, where a book-case is un- 
attainable. 

The latter, or some substitute, is almost a necessity 
in our parlors when there is no library. They are ex- 
pensive articles — a very plain one, indeed, costing twenty 
dollars, and desirable styles ranging from thirty to 
sixty-five. A handsome style of book-case is a low one, 
about four and a half feet high, with a flat top, on which 
is placed a bust or vase. These are about the same 
prices as the others. If there is a recess in the room, a 
very passable book-case may be manufactured by em- 
ploying a cabinet-maker to construct a framework of 
ehelves, of walnut or stained wood, that can be set into 
the recess without injuring the walls. The doors must 
be simply frames for the glass, the panes of which 
should be large ; tack inside, on the framework around 



50 THE HOME. 

the glass, woolen or silk stuff, laid in plaits, or gath- 
ered up in the centre, and finished with a rosette of the 
eame. 

"Where there are two communicating rooms, it is best 
to furnish them alike, and use them in the same way. 
But some prefer to furnish one for a parlor and the 
other for a sitting-room, throwing open the doors, or 
closing them at pleasure ; and this is a convenient ar- 
rangement often in cities, where calls are more fre- 
quently made than visits. When this is done the win- 
dow hangings should be the same in both rooms, and 
the furniture so ordered, as to material, coloring, etc., 
that the two x'ooms will not put each other out of coiln- 
tenance. 

In the summer you will wish to keep the room par- 
tially darkened during the glare and heat of the day, 
and when flies and dust are waiting for admittance. 
But use discretion, and do not make it so dark that your 
eyes are injured by straining them over your work, and 
your visitors announce their entrance by running up 
against the sofa, or falling over a footstool. In the 
winter let in the sunlight freely. You will all thrive on 
it. Of course this will, in time, fade the most durably 
colored carpet, but seasons will pass before this becomes 
noticeable, and an old carpet that is faded is not half 
as suggestive of poverty of purse, and narrowness of 
living, as an old one that is " as bright as new. " 

Such a room can easily be kept free from dirt, dust, 
and Cobwebs ; but some disorder, and what housekeep- 
ers call •' litter," there must necessarily be in one that 
is so much used. But you need not worry on this ac- 
count, for a little comfortable disorder is often much 
more sensible than stiff, unyielding neatness. 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 51 

This is the room for all your household gods, so you 
can have in it your little work-table, with your sewing 
materials, and the fancy work-basket, containing the 
bright colored wools, or delicate embroidery. Perhaps 
there is a chess table, a backgammon board, or box of 
parlor croquet. Your cat curls up on the rug ; your 
bird sings in its cage by the window ; the gold-fish 
dart about within their little glass prisons ; there are 
flowers here and there, if only a rose on the mantel- 
piece, or a hyacinth opening its perfumed blossoms to 
the sunlight on the window-sill. 

A visitor ushered into such a room, at once feels at 
home. A cordial welcome greets him in the very air. 
It is emphatically the " house-place," and the home life 
is all around, and suggests topics for interesting and 
friendly talk. It is all so very different from stiffly sit- 
ting in a twilight room, where there is a faint glimmer 
of white and gold, and a delusive sheen of satin and 
velvet, and where the hostess sits with idle hands, her 
heart with her family, her thoughts in her work-basket, 
and her conversation of the weather, and the gossip of 
society. No wonder that a half hour is considered a 
monstrous allowance for such visits as these. 

And, when money has become plentiful, and you have 
added to the modest little home a library, picture gal- 
lery, music hall, state bedrooms, and magnificent suits of 
elegantly furnished parlors, don't fail to keep such a 
" house-place " for your family and old friends, and the 
new ones who are worthy of such distinction. 

THE BEDEOOM. 

It is unnecessary to repeat here what has been already 
said, when speaking of the parlors, in regard to the vari- 



52 THE HOME. 

ous advantages of painted walls, and wood and paper 
hangings. The same remarks apply equally well to bed- 
rooms, and the reader is referred to the parlor for all 
general information on such topics ; only it may be well 
to offer the suggestion that, next to the white-washed 
wall, (which is entirely out of date,) in sweetness and 
cleanliness, must be placed the painted wall, and there- 
fore it is peculiarly adapted to a sleeping apartment. 
But paint is too expensive for a rented house, and even 
in one's own house is not always easy to obtain. 

Beside the wall papers that are sold for all rooms in 
common, some are designed especially for bedrooms. 
For those who like a bright, gaily-colored apartment, 
the cretonne is recommended. Being new in design 
and fashionable, it is high-priced, being one dollar a 
piece, and one dollar and a half for the gilded. But 
those who buy fancy hangings must expect to re-paper 
often, for a striking design that seems to us beautiful 
while in fashion, is hideous in our eyes as soon as the 
fashion passes. 

With these gay papers the window-hangings should 
be of chintz, of coloring and design that blends har- 
moniously with the wall, but not like it, for we do not 
wish to see precisely the same things wherever we turn 
our eyes. White hangings are much used with this 
paper, but the contrast is too violent to be altogether 
in good taste, and, if used, they should be of lace. The 
carpet must be of one color, soft in tone — for instance, 
mouse color, with a darker border relieved by rich 
colors in Grecian or Arabesque pattern. White mat- 
ting might be laid for summer use. The bed-spread 
may be white or colored, according to fancy. The fur- 
niture should be of light-colored wood, finely varnished 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 53 

— maple is the prettiest — and of a design that ia 
giaceful rather than heavy. The easy-chair may bo 
covered with crimson silk. A cool-toned picture, the 
Bubject to be suggestive of pleasant thoughts, to be hung 
on the wall. 

Such a room, half bedroom, half boudoir, would, 
from its brightness and variety, be suitable for a 
chronic invalid. It could be furnished in cheaper style 
with light yellow cottage furniture ; chair covered with 
crimson cotton, and embroidered carpet of mouse color, 
or soft brown with a tracery of delicate vines. 

The more fortunate beings who are not compelled to 
stay so much in their bedrooms generally prefer a less 
brilliant arrangement. Some go so far into the other 
extreme that their rooms are staring and glaring with 
lightness and whiteness. Because a bedroom should be 
hght rather than dark, it does not follow that carpet, 
curtains, walls and bed should be as white as possible. 
We need some variety of coloring in a bedroom as well 
as elsewhere, and, while it is desirable that it should 
look " cool " half the year, it is quite as desirable that it 
should not look chilly the other half. 

For the walls, the plain- tint paper is the prettiest. 
Figured papers in various styles, widths, and quality, 
are from twelve cents to three dollars a roll, and bor- 
dering from three to twenty cents a yard. Where there 
is such infinite variety it is sometimes harder to select 
than when we are hmited to very few. For very de- 
cided coloring, the lighter yellows— buff, maize, amber, 
and corn-color — or violet, are the least intrusive, and 
next the blues, and pinks. But a delicate tint is to be 
preferred for the ground-work of the paper, and in 
this case pink is the most desirable, as it diffuses a 



54 THE HOME. 

glow over the white hangings, and white bed-cover- 
ing ; next cream-color, and then a delicate lilac. The 
light stone-colors are pretty in themselves, but too 
negative for a room with white furnishings. White is 
undesirable, and a decided green is inadmissible. Some 
of the very light, undecided tints in green are lovely ; 
but it is a color that it is not safe to recommend on 
account of the poisonous dyes that are sometimes (but 
not always) used in its manufacture. 

A chaii'-rail of oak or maple, Georgia pine, or even 
common pine, oiled and varnished, will be a pretty ad- 
dition to the walls, with reddish brown paper below and 
blush- color above, or any other arrangement of colors 
that the situation of the room and other considerations 
may suggest. 

If the paper is buff, Holland shades of the same 
color will be prettiest for the windows, otherwise have 
white. The tassels of these must be chosen with re- 
ference to the general coloring of the room. 

Bedroom curtains may be of Nottingham lace, Swiss 
muslin, chintz, or dimity. The latter is now rarely 
used. We have seen in country places quite pretty 
bedroom curtains made of Wamsutta muslin, bordered 
with chintz, or bright striped calico, or trimmed with 
white cotton fringe, which were certainly better than 
having no curtains at all. But chintz hangings at 
thirty-five cents a yard, are almost as cheap as these ; 
and lovely chintzes can be bought at from fifty to 
seventy-five cents. Extremely bright-colored ones are 
not tasteful, unless with an exceptional style of fur- 
nishing like that previously mentioned, but neither 
should the colors be pale. 

Chintz curtains can be made with or without lambre- 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 55 

quins. These should be of the same material, and 
trimmed, if at all, with ruffles, or with cotton fringe ; 
as this is of suitable texture, and will wash. For loop- 
ing these curtains back, make a broad band of the 
chintz, interline with wigan, or something stiff, and 
trim each edge with a narrow plaited or gathered 
ruffle ; or with fringe, if the lambrequin is trimmed 
with it. 

The white curtains should be looped with silk or 
woolen cords, and tassels are a pretty addition. 

Woolen hangings should never be used in bedrooms, 
or woolen upholstery of any kind. 

Either walnut or gilt cornices are suitable for any of 
these curtains. Very good ones can be bought for three 
dollars. Imitations of gilt cornices are very poor 
affairs, but the walnut can be imitated quite successfully 
by procuring from a neighboring carpenter a suitable 
pine moulding, tacking end pieces to it, and staining 
with black walnut stain. Sometimes these mouldings 
are covered with gaily-figured, or plain, dark paper, and 
look very well in a bedroom with chintz curtains, though 
not as well as the stained wood. 

Light colors and small figures make the prettiest bed- 
room carpets. Here a good deal of white is allowable. 
English or American Ingrains are the most serviceable. 
Eor summer matting you can have white or green and 
white, or red and white. Wood carpeting is especially 
to be commended for sleeping-rooms on account of its 
freedom from dust, and should be of light woods. In 
whatever rooms wood carpeting is used, rugs should be 
laid about freely. With a carpet lay a rug in front of 
the bureau, and an oil-cloth in front of the wash-stand. 

A full suit of bedroom furniture consists of ten pieces, 



56 THE HOME. 

bedstead, bureau, wash-stand, towel-rack, small table, 
five chairs, and rocking-chair. These are the low and 
medium priced suits. The more costly ones vary some- 
what in number and kind. Wardrobes are made to 
order, and not included in the regular suits ; but in a 
large furnishing establishment it is easy to find a ward- 
robe to match any ordinary style. 

You can buy a suit of solid walnut, without towel- 
rack, plainly finished in a neat style, as low as sixty-five 
dollars, or one in the same style, but with marble tops 
on bureau and washstand, for seventy-five. Another 
style of ten pieces includes a small table with a marble 
top, also washstand and bureau with marble, and 
sells for ninety-five dollars ; a handsomer suit, but with- 
out table, one hundred dollars ; and a suit of finer 
finish, and with French walnut panels, one hundred 
and twenty-five ; and so on up to almost any price. 

Oak furniture ranges at about the same prices as the 
walnut. Chestnut, with walnut finishings, can be got 
in very pretty styles, from fifty-five to seventy-five dol- 
lars. The maple woods are generally very finely 
finished, and are more costly in the same styles. 

In the higher priced suits, a new style of dressing- 
case is sometimes substituted for the bureau. In these 
the looking-glass extends to the floor, with ornamental 
wood-work on each side of the recess thus formed. 
Sometimes this is in fancy designs — Egyptian obelisks, 
etc. — but more frequently is fitted with small drawers 
for the reception of toilet articles. This style will be 
preferred by those who are furnishing with regard to 
beauty and fine effect, and who can dispense with the 
bureau drawers. These suits sell at two hundred and 
fifty dollars and upward. 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 57 

The oiled furniture does not compare in beauty with 
tlie finely-polished woods, but these are costly, and the 
low-priced varnished furniture is undesirable in every 
way. The oiled wahiut deserves the high degree of 
favor it enjoys. It is pretty ; can be easily kept clean; 
does not show scratches readily ; and, when it begins 
to look dim, its beauty can be renewed without ex- 
pense.* 

The style of furniture known as " cottage " is thought 
by many to be in bad taste ; and there was very good 
ground for this opinion in its early days, when it first 
became fashionable, for it was too often poorly fin- 
ished, rough in design, and tawdry in coloring. But 
now it is well made, and more artistically painted. It 
is prettier and more desirable than the pine furniture, 
stained in imitation of the costly woods. It can be 
bought, or ordered, in any color that you fancy ; but 
French grey, the light stone colors, and soft browns 
will furnish a room in better taste than the blues, 
greens, and yellows that have been the rule until re- 
cently. The prices range from thirty-five dollars a suit 
to one hundred. Ten dollars additional will furnish 
the first named with ordinary white marble tops for the 
bureau and washstand, which are desii-able, not only 
for the increased beauty, but for durability, as the 
v/ooden tops soon become scratched and stained. 

The little cane rocking-chair that accompanies bed- 
room suits is very well ; but its five stiff companion chairs 
can be dispensed with to advantage. You had better 
get a comfortably stuffed easy-chair, in which you can 
lounge. Let it be covered with something — not woolen 

* Directions on page 149. 



58 THE HOME. 

— that will correspond with your carpet and hangings. 
Or you can buy an uncovered one, and cover it yourself 
with chintz hke the curtains. Or your country cabinet- 
maker will manufacture one that will not cost much ; 
will, doubtless, be rather clumsy, but will be easy, and 
can be made to. look very well. These two chairs, with 
a couple of ottomans, will probably be all the seats you 
will desire, as we do not usually entertain visitors in 
our bedrooms. 

The toilet-table, that was once considered a necessary 
addition to every bedroom, has vanished into remote 
country places. And yet it is a beautiful and graceful 
piece of furniture, and redeems a modern bedroom 
from that stiffness that is too apt to be its characteris- 
tic. Those made to set into corners are not Tecom- 
mended. They entirely lack the artistic effect of the 
larger table with straight back, and semicircular front, 
that should be placed in a prominent position. These 
can be clad in the simple drapery of white Swiss muslin 
and glazed cambric ; or in the costly attire of satins 
and laces. 

Have a light table, made of ordinary pine wood, the 
top semicircular in front, and straight at the back. It 
must be made so as to stand firmly, but must also be 
easy to lift ; for one advantage of these tables is that they 
can be carried about the room and placed wherever 
the light is best. It should be about three feet high, 
and thirty inches across the straight part. 

Tack around this blue, rose-colored, or amber cam- 
bric, or any hue that matches or harmonizes with the 
prevailing tone of the room. Make it a little full at the 
corners. Get sheer white muslin, Swiss or French ; 
allow fullness enough for it to fall in soft and graceful 



FURNISHING OF THE HOUSE. 59 

folds, without there being enough of it to " stand out " 
around the bottom, or look "bunchy" at the top ; hem 
the top and bottom ; and gather it below the upper 
hem. With the sewing-machine stitch these gathers 
firmly to linen tape, laid under them. 

Around the edge of the table tack thick cotton tape, 
or a strip of cotton cloth on which you have previously 
sewed dress hooks at convenient distances apart, with 
the hooks upward. On the tape of the valance sew 
little loops corresponding with these hooks. The val- 
ance can then be easily removed for washing, and put 
on again when clean. 

For the top make a cushion half an inch or less in 
thickness by quilting together pieces of old calico. Over 
this spread your cambric, and over this again your 
muslin, turning the edges under the calico cushion, and, 
in the case of the muslin, tack it so lightly with needle 
and thread that it can be readily taken off for washing. 
Lay this on the table, and tack in three or four places 
with tin tacks to keep it from slipping. These will be 
concealed by the standing ruffle of the valance. Or a 
silk cord of the color of the cambric could be run 
around the edge of the table under the valance ruffle. 
Or the valance could be made without the httle ruffle 
on the top, and a wide muslin ruffle sewed on the 
cushion so as to fall over the edge of the table. This 
is the prettier style, but more trouble. 

A pin-cushion should be made of the same materiaL 

A small mirror, with a small-hinged prop at the back, 
will complete tlie furnishing. Or you can have a prop 
fastened on the back of a common looking-glass. The 
frame can be entirely concealed by draj^ery of muslin 
caught back with cords, or tied with ribbon. 



60 THE HOME. 

A toilet set of plain white china of thirteen pieces will 
cost seven dollars and a half, and a set of stone china 
about five dollars. The former is the most desirable, as 
it looks well as long as it lasts, while the glazing wears 
off the latter after a time. A Japanese toilet set, includ- 
ing water-carrier, foot-tub and slop-jar, will cost four 
dollars. 

One or two attractive pictures are particularly de- 
sirable for a bedroom, as there growing plants are en- 
tirely out of the question, and even cut flowers are un- 
welcome unless inodorous. The only desirable fragrance 
in a bedroom is that imparted by perfect cleanliness, 
and by pure, sweet air ; with, perhaps, a faint breath of 
lavender in the sheets. 

We have arrived at the bedding last, and yet it is 
first in importance, surely, in a room which is set apart 
for sleeping. To begin at the foundation — various 
kinds of springs, noiseless, elastic and durable, can be 
bought for from five to eight dollars. It is not easy to 
tell which of these various patents is the best. One is 
desirable for one thing, and one for another. But two 
things may be definitely said : first, that good springs 
are better than any kind of sacking, slats, or under bed ; 
and, secondly, when buying springs you should ex- 
amine them to see if you can easUy get at every part to 
clean them, otherwise they will only prove harbors for 
vermin. Spring mattresses should never be used. 

The most comfortable bed is one good thick hair 
mattress laid on elastic springs. If two mattresses are 
used the under one should also be of hair, as straw and 
husks nearly neutralize the elasticity of the springs. 
The retail price of hard hair is seventy cents a x^ound, 
and the mattresses sell at the same rates. Forty pounds 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 61 

is the weiglit of a mattress for ordinary double bed- 
steads, and it will consequently cost twenty-eight dol- 
lars. Soft hair sells at sixty cents a pound, and a bed 
made of it at twenty-four dollars. A straw under- 
bed will cost three dollars, and a husk one five and a 
half. Where a feather bed is used a mattress must, of 
coui'se, come between it and the springs ; and here, as 
the feathers are so elastic, a husk mattress will do, but 
hair is far preferable. Geese feathers sell at a dol- 
lar a pound, and a feather bed consequently will cost 
forty dollars. A very costly article, and except in some 
few cases, an undesirable one. 

Ordinary pillows weigh from three and a half to four 
pounds ; five pounds will make quite a large one ; al- 
though some like monsters of eight and ten pounds. 

A bolster weighs about six pounds. 

Cotton ticking for feather beds comes at thirty-two 
cents a yard ; for hair at twenty-five ; and for straw and 
husks at eighteen. The imported linen ticking is 
sixty cents for the seven-eighth width, and eighty cents 
for yard and a quarter wide. 

Thick, soft, fleecy blankets of fair quality can be 
bought from ten to fifteen dollars a pair, and the finer 
grades from fifteen to twenty-five dollars. 

Very pretty Marseilles bed-spreads are from four to 
six dollars apiece ; and some neat styles, but of rather 
coarse quahty, as low as two and a half. 

Sheetings, both in linen and cotton, are from two and 
a quarter to two and a half yards wide. The first is 
wide enough for ordinary bedsteads. The sheets should 
be two and a half yards long ; and made with one hem 
wider than the other, so that the top can always be dis- 
tinguished from the bottom. You can get cotton sheet- 



62 THE HOME. 

ing heavy and good, and of medium fineness, for fifty 
cents a yard ; and the Hnen is from one dollar and 
twelve cents to two dollars. Pillow-case cottons and 
linens are five and six quarters wide. The cotton is 
from twenty-five to thirty-six cents a yard, and the 
linen from seventy cents to * a dollar. Three pairs 
each of sheets and pillow-cases should be allowed to a 
bed, but, if several bedrooms are furnished, this pro- 
portion will be found greater than is necessary. 

Pillow-case covers made of linen, and prettily trim- 
med and ornamented are now much used to lay over 
the pillows during the day. They make the bed look 
prettier, and conceal the tumbled appearance that pil- 
low-cases that are slept on must necessarily have, and 
they keep clean a long time. 

In Europe linen sheets are universally used by the 
better class, but they are not as common in this country 
as very many persons have a prejudice against them, 
considering them unsuited to our climate, and unhealth- 
ful. There can be no such objection to linen pillow- 
cases, however, and it is not at all out of place to use 
them with cotton sheets, although linen sheets and cot- 
ton pillow-cases would look strangely enough. 

Bed hangings, those ancient health-destroyers, being 
entirely unsuited to the modern bedstead, are, fortu- 
nately, obsolete. But some persons who still have the 
old-fashioned " four-posters " imagine that they give 
beauty to what has it not by hanging a strip of wavy 
lines, or festoons of cotton, silk, or woolen around the 
top. Thus treated, they remind one more of a tall girl 
who has outgrown her clothes than of anything else. 

But, whatever you do with your " four-poster," don't 
have it cut down under the impression that you thereby 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 68 

make it resemble the modern styles. Usually the only 
virtue ancient furniture possesses is that it looks an- 
cient — that is its one redeeming quality. To our mo- 
dern eyes the four-post bedstead is an ugly and clumsy 
invention, but the queerly-turned, or elaborately-carved 
posts have a quaintness that pleases the fancy, and an 
attractiveness apart from beauty. We associate them 
with the dames of olden times arrayed in their wonder- 
ful farthingales, gay bodices, towering head-dresses, and 
trains of shining satin ; and with the stately cavaliers 
in velvet coats, lace ruffles, silk breeches, diamond 
buckles and flowing wigs. We can imagine them all 
bedecked for the ball, practising the steps of the min- 
uet that had to be so perfectly executed, or studying the 
best way of making their elaborate bows and curtsies 
under the shadow of this very " four-poster." We 
may reasonably suppose that you keep it where it is, be- 
cause it is an heir-loom, an old family piece, around 
which cluster tender memories. But, cut it down, and 
not even illusion remains to invest its clumsiness with 
the grace of poetry. It becomes at once a hybrid 
monster, like nothing else that was or is under the sun; 
and we find out then that instead of being a dear old 
friend that you cherish, it is only a poor relation of 
whom you are ashamed, and would gladly be rid. 

We are apt to forget of how much importance is a 
good bed, and a pleasant and healthful room to put it in, 
until we reflect that our Creator has so constituted us 
that one third of our whole existence is passed in sleep. 
This is Nature's great restorer, and we must help her in 
her kindly office by doing our part to make all the con- 
ditions favorable to the develoj^ment of the highest de- 
gree of health. 



64 THE HOME. 

A bedroom should be light, airy, and cheerful, and, 
above everything else, well ventilated. " To sleep in a 
room without a fire," is often cited as a highly proper 
and healthful thing to do. And it may be to sleep in a 
room where the fire is not kept up at night, but to 
sleep where there has been no fire during the cold sea- 
son is quite the contrary of a healthful practice. In 
our climate, in both the Northern and Southern States, 
every bedroom that is occupied should have a fire 
lighted in it during the winter, at least for a short time 
every day. If you are obliged to keep up a fire at night, 
lower the windows at the top. A fire is oftentimes a 
great purifier. Not that we advise a hot bedroom, or 
indeed any hot room, but it must be borne in mind that 
the important thing is, not to keep the room cold, but 
to take such precautions that a sufficient quantity of 
fresh outside air shall be regularly supplied. Furnace 
heat, although objectionable in some respects, is cer- 
tainly desirable for bedrooms, for the one reason that it 
can ba let in or shut out at pleasure. 

THE DINING-ROOM. 

If, on visiting a house the first time, we are ushered 
into the parlor, and find it elegantly appointed, we have 
no reason to suppose that the other rooms at all cor- 
respond with it. The bedrooms may be bare and un- 
comfortable ; the dining-room dark, half-furnished, etc. 
If we are received in a bedroom, and find it all right, 
we may be almost certain that the parlor is, at least, 
equally well furnished, but we have no guarantee for 
the dining-room and kitchen. But if, by any chance, 
we happen to see the dining-room first, and find it an 



FURNISHING THE HOME. 65 

attractive room, completely furnished, and in good 
taste, we may regard it as positive proof that the whole 
house is ordered in the same complete and attractive 
manner. For, although a dining-room may be one of 
the first rooms in the house sufficiently furnished to be 
used, it is generally the last to receive the finishing 
touches of grace and beauty. 

It is well, even when furnishing with slender means, 
to distribute the pretty things throughout the house 
with tolerable equahty, so that the dining-room shall 
receive its share. For it is not (or, at least, should not 
be) merely an apartment to hold a table and a sufficient 
number of chairs to place around it, where we may eat 
three times a day, getting through the meals as speedily 
as possible ; the only pleasure anticipated or desired 
being the tickling of our palates by dehcate flavors. 
Our meals should be social gatherings, to which we look 
forward with pleasure from other motives than those of 
gormandizing, or even a necessary satisfying of our hun- 
ger. A hearty hking for the good things of the table 
is natural and healthful, and should be encouraged by 
abundant food appetizingly prepared, and not repressed 
by meagre fare and badly cooked dishes. But the 
family meeting, the pleasant talk, the joking and laugh- 
ter, (and plenty of it,) should be, certainly, quite as 
eagerly desired. And such meetings might be extended 
to a much greater length than is the usual custom, with 
advantage to the family enjoyment and the family 
health. To accompHsh all this effectually the surround- 
ings should be complete and comfortable, and suggest- 
ive of pleasant thoughts. 

Dark walls do not suit a dining-room any better than 
a parlor or bedroom, and, in .fact, precisely the same 



6b THE HOME. 

rules hold good here as have been already laid down 
for the furnishing of parlor and bedroom walls as to 
coloring, and the various advantages of painted walls, 
wood hangings, and different styles of paper. Of the 
latter, however, one style may be mentioned that is not 
admissible for either of those rooms, except for wain- 
scotings, but very suitable for a dming-room wall — the 
oak paper, which is an excellent imitation of wood, and 
sells for thirty-five cents a piece. It is very pretty, 
though not as handsome as the higher priced and more 
dehcately colored papers, but has its advantages. It is 
perhaps a questionable recommendation to anything in 
a dining-room, to say that "it does not show dirt." 
And yet, as flies will invade a dining-room to some ex- 
tent, do what you may to prevent it, and as it is ex- 
pensive and troublesome to re-paper frequently, some 
consideration must be given to the fact that the medium 
color of the oak paper does not show fly specks like the 
more dehcate tints on the one hand, and does not 
" show dirt " as soon as the dark paper on the other. 

An oak chair-rail can be run around the room, break- 
ing up the uniformity of this paper, while adding to its 
general wood-like appearance. Or the oak paper can 
be used for wainscoting, and above a pale brown, with 
a httle dash of color, finished with a black and gold 
border. 

In describing parlor and bedroom nothing was said 
about the wood-work, because where this is of fine 
woods it will, of course, be simply oiled or varnished to 
bring out the graining, and where of common wood 
white paint is so universally preferred that it seemed 
useless either to praise or depreciate it. On the whole 
it is> perhaps, the most suitable for a parlor, and desir- 



FUENISHING THE HOME. 67 

able for a bedroom where xDaint is used at all. But 
there are several light colors, very pretty for the latter 
room if used in harmony with the wall colors — a very 
beautiful hght green tint, for instance. 

In case your dining-room or bedroom has never been 
painted, if you oil the wood with raw linseed oil, giv- 
ing it three coats, and varnish it with white varnish, it 
will probably please you better than paint, even if the 
wood-work is nothing but pine, and the more knotty it 
is the prettier the grain ; and you will find that the 
color will deepen with age. 

Parlors and bedrooms may be grained in imitation of 
the handsome woods, but it is not altogether desirable, 
except sometimes for the doors. But for dining-rooms 
it is the next best thing to having the fine wood itself. 
Oak, maple, or chestnut are desirable (walnut is too 
dark) and all woods can be successfully imitated ; but 
be sure that the grainer is an artist in his business. This is 
absolutely essential, for badly grained wood is obtru- 
sively and staringly ugly. If you have the room painted, 
it should be in a medium and neutral tint that is in 
harmony with the walls. A violet grey will harmonize 
with the oak and brown mentioned above. 

Hang white or buff shades at the windows. If the 
walls are oak, the shades should be white, and the cur- 
tains should also be white, or of very light, or bright- 
colored chintz. The lighter or medium shades of green 
or crimson are the most desirable for solid-colored 
woolen reps. If the walls are quite light the window 
hangings may be of more sober tints, if desired. Reps 
with a gay flowered stripe down each width are very 
handsome. The orthodox style for dining-room cur- 
tains, according to the laws of upholstercjrs, is rep in 



6^ THE HOME. 

winter, and lace in summer. Fall curtains of woolen rep 
help very much in giving the dining-room the appear- 
ance of being fully and elegantly furnished when there 
is really not very much in it, and they impart to the 
room a cosiness and warmth, and richness of coloring ; 
and here are not open to the same objection that was 
made to them for the parlor. They are desirable, but 
by no means necessary. The lowest priced, made of good 
material, would probably cost about sixteen dollars a 
window, not including the cornice, and they could only 
be used in winter. Lace looks well during the whole 
year. But this, perhaps, is rather more costly for a 
dining-room than you would desire, as the cheapest 
could not be put up under twelve dollars a window. 

White Swiss muslin makes a simple and pretty dra- 
pery, but for a dining-room the heavy chintzes would 
be more en regie. The satines come in a variety of 
beautiful designs, and are heavy and glossy. They are 
from one dollar to one and a quarter per yard, and re- 
quire no extra trimmings. The cheaper chintzes will 
also make quite pretty hangings. 

For this room an oiled or stained floor, or wood car- 
peting, possesses the most advantages. They are hand- 
some, too, and should have a bright drugget laid under 
the table, and a richly-colored rug in front of side- 
board and hearth. But, if you prefer a carpet, get a 
Three-ply or Ingrain with small figures, or mixed 
grounds, and in medium colors. Brussels is not at all 
out of place, if you wish a carpet of a costlier kind, 
but you must remember that careless servants are neces- 
sarily much in this room, and that many feet will tread 
over its floor, and that when the surface wears from a 
Brussels its day is done. Do not have such a very 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 69 

nice carpet that you feel you must cover it up with a 
drugget, except a narrow strip around the edge, left to 
show that you have a carpet. There is not much en- 
joyment to be got out of one's possessions if they are 
put out of sight. And, besides, it is of doubtful econ- 
omy. An experienced housekeeper would tell you that 
the colors are very apt to fade under the drugget, and 
that the dust that will inevitably sift through it on 
to your carpet will not add to its beauty. 

But a crumb-cloth of linen or woolen drugget may be 
laid under the table to prevent the carpet from being 
greased, or otherwise soiled. Linen drugget sells at 
about one dollar a square yard, and woolen at one dol- 
lar and a quarter. The above objections do not apply 
to crumb-cloths, as they are so frequently taken up. 

Anything is better on a dining-room floor than oil- 
cloth. It is bare, cheerless, and inelegant, and gives to 
servants much unnecessary cleaning. 

Matting can be laid down for summer. 

Extension tables are now almost universally used as 
dining tables. A plain substantial one of walnut, that 
will seat twelve persons, can be bought as low as four- 
teen dollars, and quite a handsome one for twenty ; and 
so they grow in price as they grow larger, heavier, and 
more ornate. Other American woods sell at about the 
same rates. 

Dining-room chairs of walnut, oak or maple, with cane 
seats, well made, (and not with the different parts merely 
glued together,) are thirty-six dollars a dozen. Made 
of cheaper woods they are twenty-four dollars a dozen. 

It is by no means uncommon to see very prettily fur- 
nished dining-rooms without a sideboard, as they are 
costly and not essential, particularly where there is a 



70 THE HOME. 

china closet convenient. But get one, if you can afford 
it, for they are very useful, and are now made in such 
beautiful styles that they are very ornamental pieces of 
furniture. Handsome ones in walnut, oak, and maple 
can be bought for forty dollars. 

If you have no sideboard, a table should be placed at 
the side of the room for the reception of the extra 
dishes, plates, glasses, etc., which will be needed during 
the meal. During the summer there should also be a 
small table with a marble top, on which the water-cooler 
should be placed. If an ice pitcher is used instead, it 
can be set on the sideboard, or side table. If the 
water- cooler is kept on the sideboard it should stand in 
a deep waiter that the marble may not be injured by the 
drippings from it through careless handling. 

As regards ornaments for this room, let me entreat 
that you will not keep there on exhibition a wax dessert. 
Ice cream jellies and cakes are not precisely objects of 
art, and though they look attractive and pretty to us in 
connection with the suggestion of delicious flavor, when 
placed before our eyes in wax, hint possibihties that 
perhaps your table does not realize. 

Statues, busts, and statuettes, though they adorn ban- 
queting halls, are entirely out of place in ordinary 
dining-rooms, and vases also, unless they have some- 
thing in them — grasses, plants, or flowers* A clock is 
allowable, but it is often an ungracious reminder that 
the dinner is late, or that the pleasant party has been a 
long time at the table. In fact, small ornaments are 
here in questionable taste, except the candelabras and 
ornaments of quaint, rich, and heavy designs that are 
manufactured expressly for dining-room mantels. Fail- 
ing these, supply their places with grasses and flowers. 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 71 

There is no room in which flowers and plants are as 
welcome. You cannot have too many of them. Put 
cut flowers on mantel, table, and sideboard, and have 
plants growing in the windows or on flower-stands in 
front of them. 

Pictures are in good taste, and highly desirable, but 
not of fruits or desserts. These, unlike the wax abomin- 
ations mentioned previously, may be very beautiful or 
ingenious in themselves, but when we have the real 
thing before our eyes we care little for the representa- 
tion, and if we have it not, do not care at that precise 
time to be reminded of it. And pictures of dead game 
are not altogether pleasant and appetizing for dining- 
room walls. If you have fine paintings or chromos of 
" still life " you had better hang them in any other 
room than this, if you wish them to be fully appreci- 
ated. 

THE KITCHEN. 

A white-washed wall is best for the kitchen, as it is 
pure and sweet, and can so easily be freshly white- 
washed whenever it is soiled. The whitewash can be 
colored if a tint is desired. This makes a prettier wall, 
but has the disadvantage that, whenever any place be- 
comes soiled, (and accidents are not uncommon in kit- 
chens,) a white- washer must be called in to repair the 
mischief, whereas the ordinary whitewash can be put 
on by anybody sufficiently well for this purpose ; and 
thus no greasy and unsightly spots need ever be seen 
on the kitchen wall. The ceiling and walls should be 
whitewashed at least twice a year. 

Painted wood- work is not desirable ; it soon looks 
dii'ty, unless washed very frequently with soap, which 



72 THE HOME. 

process soon wears off the paint in spots. The wood, 
left in its native state, requires a great deal of hard 
scrubbing ; but if oiled and varnished, or simply oiled, 
will keep clean a long time, and can be easily and 
quickly wiped off with a little water. 

In many kitchens, especially in the city, window 
shades are a superfluity, for the rooms are quite dark 
enough without their aid ; but, if your room happens 
to be so light and sunny as to make shades desirable, 
Holland linen in grey, light brown, or deep buff, will 
make very serviceable ones. Or the}'' can be made of 
solid colored calico, if wide enough, which will not fade 
in the sun, or by washing. But muslin curtains will 
generally be preferred to the shades, as they soften the 
light without shutting it out. Get two and a half, or 
three yards of wide, white, " cross-barred " muslin, at 
twenty-five or thirty cents, and make a plain curtain, 
without fullness, with a string run through the hem at 
the top, that it may be drawn back and forth ; or, what 
is better, hang it on a rod, with the old-fashioned cur- 
tain rings. If a more artistic arrangement is desired, 
get two widths, gather, and sew the tops to a tape, and 
tack to the inside of a lath two or three inches wide. 
Put on short end-pieces, and stain the little cornice 
thus made with black walnut stain. These curtains are 
somewhat troublesome, as they have to be washed fre- 
quently, but they are easy to do up. They should not 
be starched stiffly. Half curtains of muslin are often 
sufficient for kitchen windows. 

If the flooring is smoothly and evenly laid, the clean- 
est and least troublesome method of treating it is to oil 
it well two or three times a year. It does not soil 
easily then, and when soiled can be washed readily, and 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 73 

without scrubbing. If it is not in proper condition for 
oiling, stain it with black walnut stain. This will pro- 
bably have to be renewed every spring and fall, but is 
not difficult to do, and will cost less than fifty cents for 
each apphcation. In the winter you will need to lay 
strips of carpet in front of the tables. It is easy to 
sweep these uncarpeted floors, and there is no dust 
rising from them and mingling with the food that is 
being prepared. But we are far from commending the 
use of bare floors, that are neither stained nor oiled. 
These require too much soap and sand scrubbing. 
They suggest tired backs, and weary arms, and aching 
knees. Housekeepers should arrange everything as far 
as possible to avoid scrubbing. It is very hard labor, 
performed in a painful position, and motives of human- 
ity ought to lead us to lessen it wherever we can. Ser- 
vants complain bitterly of this work, and in England 
there is a painful disease known as " Housemaid's 
Knees," that is produced by this very scrubbing. And 
then, too, it takes a great deal of the servant's time to 
very little profit. 

Oil-cloth is generally preferred for kitchen floors, but 
it is costly when good, and no other is worth putting 
down in a room where it will be so hardly used. The 
best American oil-cloth is two dollars a square yard, 
and you can get a fair quality for a dollar and a half, 
but scarcely for less. And it has the disadvantage of 
the unstained floor — it has to be washed very often. 
True, it ought not to be scrubbed, and especially with 
lye soap, but servants will do it unless closely watched. 
They imagine they clean it sooner this way ; and more 
oil-cloth has been worn out by servants' scrubbing than 
any other means — the lye soon eats its way through the 



74 THE HOME. 

cloth. But-, if it should not be scrubbed in this way, it 
has to be washed very frequently, and is easily soiled, 
Wood carpdUng is not more costly than the best oil-cloth, 
and is not open to the same objections. Indeed, where 
the floor is V;adly laid, it is the best covering for it. 

Carpets K,re not suitable for kitchens, not being 
cleanly enough, and they are troublesome to manage, 
as they have to be shaken so often. But, if the room 
is very cold, a square of carpet may be laid in the 
middle of the floor, fastened down by rings at the four 
corners, which rings are slipped over smooth-headed 
tacks driven into the floor. 

If, however, you choose to cover your kitchen floor 
with a carpet. Rag is the best, because it is thick and 
heavy. It should not be laid in separate breadths, but 
regularly made, and tacked down only in fi-ont of the 
doors and places where it is liable to trip any one up, 
and there as hghtly as possible, so that it can be taken 
up with little trouble. For it should be *vell shaken 
twice a week. 

A dresser is indispensable in a kitchen, and, if you 
rent a house without it, insist upon the landlord putting 
one up. If you have one made under your own direc- 
tions, let it be large enough for two wide closets be- 
low, and three narrower ones above. The upper closet 
should be far enough above the lower to allow the top 
of the latter to be used for a shelf, or rather, a sort of 
table. The lower closets should be at least two feet in 
depth. In the one nearest the fireplace, keep the cook- 
ing utensils ; in the other, the small stores of flour, 
corn-meal, sugar, coffee, tea, etc. ; also the spices, box 
of stale bread, and whatever is to be used in cooking ; 
it is the place, also, for the pastry-board, bread-bowl. 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 75 

and rolling-pin. This latter closet must, of course, be 
provided with some shelves. It is well to have above 
these closets a row of drawers, in which to keep the 
kitchen table-cloths, towels, ironing-blankets, etc. If 
there are no drawers, a couple of shelves in an upper 
closet can be appropriated to these things. 

The upper closets should be a few inches less in 
depth, than the lower, and two of them filled with 
shelves. The smaller one of these is intended for a 
place of temporary deposit for meats, butter, oysters, 
soup-stock, preserves, fruits, and everything of this 
kind prepared for cooking, and presently to be used, 
instead of standing, sometimes for hours, on the tables, 
catching the dust and attracting the flies. This is the 
place for the salt-box. And here, too, may be kept the 
pieces set aside for beggars. In the second closet, also 
with shelves, the kitchen china is placed. The third 
should have but one shelf, at the top, on which may be 
kept the soap, washing soda, starch, and anything that 
is not used every day. Below this is a clear space, in 
which the tins are hung. Some persons like to see 
these disposed around the kitchen walls, and they have 
a sort of homely beauty, but they necessarily get dusty, 
and their brightness dims sooner when thus exposed to 
the moist air, and they will therefore require more fre- 
quent cleaning. 

If there is no laundry, in which to keep the imple- 
ments for washing and ironing, try to dispose of thorn 
in some other place than the kitchen. The flat-irons 
can stand on the mantel-piece, and you may, possibly, 
find room for the wash-boiler in a dresser closet ; but 
the tubs can be put in the cellar, and the clothes- 



76 THE HOME. 

baskets, skirt-board, etc., in some closet or unoccupied 
room. 

You will need two tables, of unpainted and unvar- 
nished wood, and on these the servant can exercise her 
gift for scrubbing, and bestow upon them the attention 
that the oiled floor does not need. The size of the 
tables depends somewhat upon that of the kitchen — 
one three and the other live feet long are the usual 
sizes ; and they will cost respectively three and five 
dollars. 

Ordinary painted wooden chairs are about seventy- 
five cents apiece. You will, probably, require three or 
four. The best chairs are of oiled ash, or common 
maple, with broad, low seats, and bent backs, and are 
a dollar o.piece. To make these wooden chairs more 
comfortable, cushions may be made of ticking, and 
stuffed with hair, with calico covers that will slip on and 
off readily, as they will have to be frequently washed. 

A very popular article of kitchen furniture is one 
that can be converted into a table or settee at plea- 
sure. 

The kitchen should have a clock, and it must be one 
that is warranted to keep good time, for on it a great 
deal of the comfort, and some of the good temper, per- 
haps, of the family will depend. Three dollars is pro- 
bably the lowest price for a good common clock, and yet 
the very cheap ones do sometimes keep in good running- 
order for years. It is a good plan to keep it locked, 
and wind it yourself, not always for fear that the ser- 
vants will tami3er with it, and change the hands to suit 
their convenience, but because they are careless and 
will neglect it, or wind it recklessly, and injure it ; and 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 77 

besides, if you set the time yourself, there can be no 
disputing about it. 

Beside these things you will, of course, have a sink. 
Painted iron ones are now considered the best. It 
should not be smaller than two and a half feet long, 
and a foot and a half brocid. 

These are all the things necessary for the furnishing 
of the room ; they are few and inexpensive. The fur- 
nishing of the closets will cost very much more, for in 
them are enclosed the most important articles of kitchen 
furniture. A list of these is given at the end of this 
volume. It is very full, and it is not absolutely neces- 
sary to get everything mentioned there at once if you 
do not feel able to do so. Select what you need for 
immediate use, and add to your store from time to time 
until you have completed the list. For there is noth- 
ing set down there that is not necessary for perfect 
housekeeping. And, indeed, many things are omitted 
on the list that are very desirable, but not essential, 
and which should be bought if there are means for the 
purpose. Some of these articles are set down under 
the regular list as " Extras," but others are necessarily 
excluded. The labor-saving machines, pea-shellers, ap- 
ple-parers, raisin-seeders, and others, being patent in- 
ventions, are rather expensive, but will be found of very 
great service in all families, and more esioecially in 
those where but one servant is kept, often saving the 
hiring of extra help. 

The kitchen is pre-eminently the cooking-room, and, 
in furnishing, that should be kept in view. But it is 
also, in most houses, the servant's evening sitting-room, 
and ought to be made comfortable for her. If the floor 
is uucarpeted, and the room is cold, let her have a httle 



78 THE HOME. 

square of carpet to lay on the floor in the evening, and 
if there is no gas, let there be a good hanging lamp 
that will throw down a bright light, and some hanging 
shelves with a few books and papers might suggest to 
her employment for a leisure hour. 

HALL AND STAIKWAT. 

A hall, properly speaking, is a wide and lofty apart- 
ment, from which, generally, not necessarily, rises a 
spacious, imposing staircase. Such a hall requires seve- 
ral articles of furniture, a sofa, a settee, or something of 
that kind ; some high-backed, stately chairs, with low, 
wide seats, leather covered, a table, a large hat-stand, 
with mirror ; the walls adorned with stag horns, curi- 
osities, and a picture ; perhaps brackets and busts ; 
large vases are on each side of the doorway, and niches 
are occupied by statues. 

But in America we call our narrow entries halls. In 
the ordinary city houses one article of furniture — a 
hat-stand and umbrella-rack combined — makes the hall 
quite crowded ; and in the country, where they are 
somewhat wider, the addition of a table and couple of 
chairs fills them to their utmost capacity. 

Such narrow halls should have carpets laid down 
without borders, as these only make them look nar- 
rower than they really are, except in the case of a very 
short entry, when a border makes it look longer. 
Ingrain carpeting is not used for halls and stairways, 
but the heavier Venetian takes its place. This is sold 
in various widths — the best, if yard wide, is two 
dollars and a half a yard, and the other widths in pro- 
portion. It can be got of fairly good quality at lower 
prices, but as an entry does not require many yards, and 



FUBNISHING THE HOUSE. 79 

as it has rather hard usage, you should get the best 
if possible. Enghsh Brussels is the same price, and 
in texture wears equally well, but in time the colors rub 
off, and it cannot be turned like the Venetian. Wilton, 
having a cut pile, wears still longer than the Brussels. 
So does good Velvet, as that also has a cut pile, but 
there is no carpet to which dirt so quickly and perti- 
naciously adheres as to this, and it is very hard to 
sweep. You can put the same grade of carpeting on 
your halls and stairway that is in your parlor, or a 
lower one, but not a better grade. If Ingrain is on 
your parlor floor, Venetian must clothe the hall, but if 
you have Brussels in the parlor, you can still have Ve- 
netian in the hall, or you can have Brussels, but not 
Wilton, or Velvet. 

The carpet should be alike on entry and stairway, 
and if you are furnishing two or three flights, it is good 
economy to furnish them all alike, though this is not 
necessary. If the carpet does not extend quite to the 
walls, it is admissible to have a strip of painted floor, 
but it is not desirable, and does not look as well as to 
sew a border to the carpet. On the stairs, on the 
contrary, the carpet should not extend entirely across, 
but a space should be left on each side which can be 
painted, stained, or grained. 

In measuring for stair carpet you should allow a little 
piece at top and bottom to run under the hall carpet, 
and also half a yard extra to allow for moving it up or 
down whenever it is put down after shaking, as this 
constant moving prevents it from wearing at the edges 
of the steps. Stair pads should be laid under the car- 
pet, as it will then last twice as long ; they also make it 
look richer, and feel softer under the feet. These are 



80 THE HOME. 

layers of cotton quilted between cotton cloth, and can 
be bought from two to three dollars a dozen, according 
to width. 

Stair-rods vary so much in width, length and design 
that it is impossible to say precisely what are best for 
any particular case. It may be generally stated that 
the nickel rods are from ten to twenty-five dollars a 
dozen ; the brass from one dollar and a half to eighteen 
dollars, and the -wooden (of all kinds of wood) from 
one dollar to twelve. 

In wet weather it is well to lay down a strip of linen 
or woolen drugget on the hall carpet, otherwise 
snow-slush or mud will be tracked over it, notwith- 
standing the mat at the door. But it is not well to 
keep it down when the ground is dry. 

A floor laid with fine woods, nicely oiled or varnished, 
is more beautiful for a hall than any carpet. Next to 
this the wood carpeting is most desirable. Gay mats 
should be laid at all the doors opening from the hall. 

Oil-cloth is frequently used for haUs, brt ?t is not 
easy to see what advantages it possesses. It is neither 
floor, nor carpet ; has the unclothed look of the former 
without any of its richness and beauty ; and the figures 
and flowers of the latter without any of its warmth of 
coloring, or its suggestions of comfort and complete- 
ness ; and it is more expensive than the former, and 
quite as costly as the latter. It requires a great deal 
of washing, and will have to be replaced as soon as it is 
a little worn, or it will give a poor appearance to the 
house. For every housekeeper knows that her house 
is judged by the first impression produced on her visi- 
tor's mind by the hall. 

If oil-cloth is laid in the hall, you should put paper 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. gl 

under it wherever the sun will be likely to shine much 
upon it, otherwise it may stick fast to the floor. 

Within a few years a new article has been manufac- 
tured that bids fair to take the place of oil-cloth. It is 
called Linoleum, and is made of cork and India-rubber, 
put upon a canvas hack, like the oil-cloth. It is plea- 
santer under the feet than oil-cloth, is more durable, 
and is thought by those who have used both, to be su- 
perior to it in every respect. It is two dollars a square 
yard. It is an English manufacture. 

The prettiest style for the walls is a wainscoting of 
walnut, with wood hangings above of solid oak, or the 
oak might be paneled with some walnut, but not striped. 
Avoid stripes whether of wood or paper. 

If the wall is painted, an}^ of the light tints are 
suitable ; but if the hall is wide, and ver}^ hght, a dark 
shade may be desirable. 

Panel paper is appropriate for a hall, even if not 
spacious, because its narrowness, in connection with its 
.comparatively great length, and the open stairway 
gives an impression of height, and this is why stripes 
are objectionable. Grey, or stone color, paneled with 
dark brown, will probably be most satisfactory. 

If figured paper is used, it should not be of vines or 
flowers, but of mixed, indistinct patterns, and as nearly 
as possible of one tint, or else delicately shaded. Em- 
bossed papers may also be used in halls, if they can be 
found in the proper colors, but the decided hues, such 
as crimson and green, are there entirely out of place. 

The same paper should be used all the way up as 
many halls and flights of stairs as the house contains, 
except in the case of panel paper, when, if preferred, 
the paneling can cease at the end of the landing of the 



82 THE HOME. 

first flight, and the plain tint continued the rest of the 
way. It is not, of course, necessary to continue wood 
hangings and painted walls beyond the first fiight of 
stairs. 

Marbled papers are not pretty, and, as not even the 
stupidest person actually supposes for a moment that 
your walls are built of solid marble, there is really no 
illusion in them. 

There is no place where wainscoting shows to the 
advantage it does in a hall. Walnut or oak may be 
used with any style of paper. And so can any other 
wood you may fancy, but these two seem most appro- 
priate for halls. 

If you cannot afford a wainscoting, have a chair-rail 
of oak or walnut, with the same colors above and below 
in different shades — a dark stone-grey below, and a 
light stone-color above, is perhaps the prettiest com- 
bination for a hall. 

A gas-fixture, or lamp of graceful pattern, should be 
suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the hall, 
or between the stairway and the front door. 

THE servant's KOOM. 

If you have secured a good servant, one of the surest 
ways of retaining her is to give her a comfortable room; 
and, if she is not a very good one, perhaps the feeling 
that her comfort is cared for, will help to make her 
better. In calculating the expense of furnishing a 
house, the servant's room should invariably be included; 
and if you cannot at once buy all that is set down in 
the List at the end of this volume, you can by contri- 
vance and some trouble manage to provide her every- 
thing necessary except a good bed. That you will have 



FURNISHING THE HOUSE. 83 

to buy, for this to her is the most important of all, and 
a home-made mattress is generally a very poor affair 
when made out of old materials, and if you buy the 
hair and ticking, it will cost more than the mattress 
ready made ; for the upholsterer purchases his mate- 
rials at so much less than you can that he can afford to 
make up a mattress and sell it to you for what he 
would ask you for the hair that is put in it, and make a 
good profit. 

Straw is too uncomfortable for an upper bed. Husks 
are better, but are not by any means soft. Cotton and 
wool mattresses, if made by an upholsterer, are more 
comfortable for a little while, but they soon get lumpy. 
The latter are a good deal used in England, but 
judging from the descriptions and advice given in 
English Household books of quite recent date, the 
middle classes of that country have yet to learn what 
constitutes a really good bed. Americans, being Syba- 
rites in this matter, have reached perfection as nearly 
as our present knowledge allows. What luxurious 
couches may be reserved for the future we cannot, of 
course, know ; but our noiseless elastic springs, and 
cool, clean, light hair mattresses are exquisitely com- 
fortable. We have universally adopted the low French 
bedstead, and we believe that we are indebted to them 
for the spring mattress which suggested the different 
arrangements of springs now made. The spring mat- 
tresses are almost out of use. They soon got out oi 
order, were difficult to put in order again, and afforded 
safe refuges to bugs. 

The bedstead for your servant's room is not of much 
importance except that it should be low, and should 
screw so tightly together that bugs cannot get into the 



84 THE HOME. 

cracks. Very good single bedsteads of wood or iron 
can be purchased from four to six dollars. For three 
dollars you can fit it with a set of springs. If you get 
a husk or wool mattress it will be more comfortable 
laid right on the springs than with a straw bed under 
it. The same may be said of a hair mattress. Hard 
hair is best, but the soft hair wears very v/ell, and is 
ten cents a pound cheaper. A single mattress of the 
former will cost about fourteen dollars, but it will last 
for years before it will have to be " made over," and 
then, with perhaps the addition of a little hair, can be 
made as good as ever, and serve for another term of 
years. A mattress of soft hair will cost from ten to 
twelve dollars. 

Mattresses in this room, and also in all the bedrooms, 
should be furnished with covers that can be taken 
off and washed. A blue cotton check, at twelve and 
fifteen cents a yard, is sold expressly for this purpose. 

Allow for the bed three pairs of cotton sheets, each 
one and a half yards wide, and two and a quarter long. 
Cotton at twenty-five cents is very good for this pur- 
pose. As there is but one pillow, three pillow cases will 
be sufficient. A pair of thick all-wool blankets of suf- 
ficiently fine quality, can be bought for five or six dol- 
lars. These, with the addition of a neat cotton cover- 
let, will complete the bed furnishing, except that in 
very cold weather a comfortable may be needed. 

A table with a small looking-glass hung over it, will 
answer for toilet purposes, though a bureau is to be 
preferred. There should also be a wash-stand and its 
furniture, and a low, cane-seated rocking-chair will bo 
a comfortable addition. 

Bag carpeting for the floor will cost a dollar a yard, 



FUBNISHING THE HOUSE. 85 

and can be bought in very pretty stripes. An American 
Ingrain with cotton chain will cost no more, and will 
look much prettier at first, but is not to be recommended 
for wear. 

Or the floor can be stained, and strips of carpet laid, 
by bedstead and bureau ; or a small square in the centre 
of the room. 

It is better not to paper the walls, but to have them 
whitewashed twice a year. 

At the windows hang Holland shades, or curtains of 
pretty caHco that is hght in color, and that will not fade 
in the wash. 



P ART IV. 

HEATING THE HOUSE. 

So many houses, both in city and country, are now 
supphed with furnaces or fire-place heaters, that stoves 
are not usually included in Furnishing Lists. For this 
reason we have said nothing about them in our re- 
marks on furnishing; and also for the better reason that 
there is no article of household use of which it is so 
difficult to speak particularly as stoves, so great is the 
variety, and so diverse the reasons for which each is 
recommended. Indeed, to visit a large stove ware- 
house, one would scarcely believe there were such 
things as furnaces and fire-place heaters, but would cer- 
tainly come to the conclusion that the whole world used 
stoves. Forty varieties of cooking stoves, and nearly 
thirty of parlor stoves, may be seen at one establish- 
ment — positive proofs that furnaces in the cellar, and 
ranges built into kitchen fire-places, are not by any 
means, the rule in American homes. To define all 
these styles, and point out their separate advantages, is, 
of course, impossible in this book. And yet we cannot 
pass over in silence such an important matter as heating 
the house. 



HEATING THE HOUSE. 87 

To keep the whole house warm, used to be considered 
very unheal thful. What particular advantage there 
was in going from one heated room to another through 
a cold entry, or from the torrid zone of the sitting-room 
into the frigid atmosphere of the bedroom, where one 
had to depend upon iiis own supply of animal heat to 
keep the bed warm, and was afrair to stick his nose out 
of the blanket to encounter the cold air, it is difficult to 
Bee. Doubtless our ancestors thought that warmth was 
enervating, but the rooris that they did heat were at 
the very highest temperature ; enough, it would seem 
to us, to deprive the strongest man of his strength. We 
would not thus call in question the wisdom of our pro- 
genitors, if the same idea did not linger in the minds 
of some of their descendants. There are persons now 
who will k?ep two or three rooms at a temperature of 
ninety degrees, while all the rest of the house is as cold 
^s a vault. This is neither comfortable nor healthful. 

^Furnaces are greatly praised by some, and decried 
by others. " So healthy," say the first, " just the air 
for the lungs — so clean, no dust and ashes in the rooms, 
so economical of fuel — so little trouble, with only the 
one ftre to attend to — rooms look so pretty without the 
Xigly stoves." " Such dry, unwholesome heat," say the 
Letter, " and terrible for weak lungs — a great trouble, 
for the fire is never just right, and if the room is cold, 
we hav3 to go down one or two pairs of stairs to see 
what is the matter, and the servant never attends to it 
properly — such extravagance in the use of fuel, just as 
much required whether to heat one room or six — the 
rooms are so cheerless and ugly, with no bright fire." 
It is surprising how such totally opposite conclusions 
can be arrived at in regard to any practical thing. 



88 THE HOME. 

Where people of equally good sense and sound judg- 
ment so widely disagree, the ine.£r>erienced are some- 
what at a loss what to do. 

For ourselves, we think, on the whole, a house is 
better heated, in a sanitary sense, by a furnace, because 
all the walls are kept dry, which ia a matter of very 
great importance. At the same time, we- admit that the 
direct heat is dry and disagreeable, and probabl}^ not as 
healthful altogether as the stove heat, and certainly less 
so than that from an open fire. For bedrooms that are 
only used as sleeping-rooms, the furnace is desirable 
because the room can be kept at a lower temperature 
than a sitting-room, and still be warm, and all damp- 
ness kept out, and the heat can so easily be shut out ?ti 
night. The servant's room can also be warmed by a 
registf^r, and generally servants are not to be trusted 
with stoves. 

We would secure the advantages of a furnace, and 
obviate its disadvantages by having open fire-places in 
all the rooms, so that they can be used whenever de- 
sired, and by using them regularly in the sitting-room, 
and dining-room ; burning in them, either v:ood or coal, 
as preferred. We would thus use more fuel, it is tru-v, 
but the difference would not be great, for the furna'*^. 
fire must be kept so low that the temperature of the 
house shall not rise above sixty degrees, and thus fuel 
will be saved there. This we regard as tne most desir- 
able way of heating a house for comfort, health, and 
pleasantness. 

Where parlors and sitting-rooms are not occupied 
until the evening, and dining-rooms only during the 
meyJs, wood will be found the cheapest fuel, even in 
I laces where it sells at high prices. For a wood fire 



HEATING THE HOUSE. 89 

can be made with but little trouble, and will so speedily 
become a bright blaze that it will need only be kept 
burning while the room is occupied. A few sticks of 
wood will make a cheerful fire during a whole meal, 
and change the dry atmosphere of the room into a 
raore healthful one ; and it will not require much wood 
to keep u}) a fire the whole evening in a room where the 
air is already tempered by furnace heat. 

Instead of open fires, stoves can be put up m these 
rooms, and used in the same way ; but half of the cheer- 
fulness and brightness of a room in winter is driven 
out when the fire-place is closed. 

The secret of regulating a furnace-fire so that the 
heat shall be uniform throughout the day, lies in the 
simple fact that it must be attended to systematically. 
When you have so arranged the fire that for one dav 
the heat has been uniform, and of the temperature you 
desire, attend to it always thereafter in the same way 
precisely. This seems like a foolish direction to give, 
as it is so self-evident, but it is the very thing many 
housekeepers never learn, not only in regard to fires, 
but everything else. They do not even make the same 
kind of pie exactly alike two days in succession. 

Many country houses are so built that it is not safe to 
introduce furnaces into them. But fire-place heaters 
can be put into any house. These are stoves set inside 
the fire-place with pipes running up to the rooms 
above, into which the heat is introduced by means of 
registers. Three rooms can thus be comfortably heated 
v/ith one fire. These stoves are of different kinds, and 
vary in size to suit large or small rooms, and cost from 
seventy-five to ninety dollars to put up with pipes, re- 
gisters and all complete. 



90 THE HOME. 

"With forty, and perhaps more, different kinds of 
cooking stoves from which to make a choice it would 
seem as if every housekeeper could be suited. The 
fault with most of them is that there is no place for 
roasting meats, and a great many have no proper con- 
veniences for broiling. When you are buying, look out 
for these things ; and see also that it does not burn fuel 
to waste ; that the oven is properly situated for heat- 
ing with no great addition of fuel, and that the stove 
has a revolving grate, so that it can be readily cleaned 
out. A cooking-stove for a medium-sized family will 
cost about eighteen dollars, and so on, down to twelve, 
and up to twenty-five. They are sold with or without 
the proper pots and kettles. 

The self-feeding base-burners are very popular parlor 
stoves. The coal is poured into a funnel-shaped re- 
ceptacle which is in the top of the stove, and drops 
slowly from the mouth of this funnel on to the fire be- 
low as the coal burns out, and the fire " settles. " This 
saves trouble, as the receptacle has to be filled only once 
a day. The ordinary sizes for families are from fifteen 
to thirty dollars. 

Very pretty open stoves are sold for parlors, bed- 
rooms, etc. They are furnished with grates, and in 
most of them either wood or coal can be used. A small 
sijie, suitable for a bedroom, can be bought for six dol- 
lars, and the medium sizes are from eight to twelve. 

The old and familiar gas-consuming stoves still re- 
tain their popularity, and are from nine to fifteen dollars. 

These are only a few of the great variety of coai 
stoves, and there are also quite a number of different 
manufactures of wood stoves. These range from five 
and six dollars up to twenty. 



HEATING THE HOUSE. 91 

In whatever way you heat your house, try to have an 
open fire in the family sitting-room, if it is possible. A 
wood fire is much to be preferred, but coal will do. It 
will not cost very much, and the little extra trouble it 
gives is not to be compared with the enjoyment the 
family will all derive trom it. to say nothing of the po- 
sitive advantage of keeping the air pure and sweet. 



r ART 7, 

KEEPING THE HOUSE. 

SERVANTS. 

These seem to be regarded as necessary evils, and 
yet they should be comforts. Many a beginner in 
housekeeping exclaims, "I can get along with everj^- 
thing but the servants, and I look forward to contests 
with them with real dread." Our servants are, as a 
rule, inefficient, careless, and unskillful, and very inde- 
pendent of the good opinion of their mistresses. But, 
if you are so fortunate as to get a good servant, and, if 
you inquire into her history, you will generally find that 
her first mistress knew how to train her and to win her 
respect and affection. The treatment that a girl re- 
ceives in the first two or three years of service, and the 
teaching that she then has, determine the whole future 
character of her service. A great deal can be done 
with a servant who comes to you young and inexperi- 
enced ; and something can be done with an older one 
who has passed through years of mismanagement, by 
being a little forbearing with her faults, and kindly 
pointing them out to her, instead of sending her away 
in a week. 

If you can once get a servant to regard you as her 
friend, your task is half done. At present there seems 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 93 

to be an antagonism between mistress and maid — the 
mistress looks ui)on the maid as some curious sort of 
ajiimal, entirely different from herself, for whom she 
must be constantly on the watch ; and the maid regards 
the mistress as an enemy, of whom she is to take every 
possible advantage. You can never make a friend of 
your servant by treating her familiarly, and joking and 
gossiping with her. She may, at first, be pleased with 
this, but she will lose her respect for you, and the en- 
gagement is almost sure to end in a bitter quarrel. The 
bqst way is to regard her as a member of the family, 
tci'whom is due a certain amount of consideration and 
attention, and from whom you demand in return con- 
sideration for your wishes, and obedience to the rules 
of the house. 

Suppose that you had with you a young girl, the 
daughter of a friend, would you allow her to form asso- 
ciates of whom you knew nothing, and to go out in the 
evening with young men, and stay until nearly mid- 
night, without knowing where she was going, and the 
character of her escort ? Extend, then, the same sur- 
veillance and authority over the young servant girl, who 
is as much a member of your family as your young lady 
visitor, without the careful culture to keep her from 
evil ; and who, perhaps, has not a friend in the whole 
country capable of advising her. She will resent it, 
you say. That is very probable. Young girls, of all 
classes, resent the authority that interferta with their 
pleasures. But that is not a sufficient reason lor giving 
them a loose rein to do as they please. 

When your servant goes out in the evening, insist 
upon her return before the regular hour of closing the 
housG ; and, if she is young, inform yourself of the 



94 THE HOME. 

character of her associates, and what families she visits. 
Teach her how to dress in a neat and becoming manner. 
Show her how to select goods, and to harmonize colors; 
and, if possible, sometimes go shopping with her. 
Take some pains to induce her to safely invest her sur- 
plus money, instead of spending it on cheap jewelry, 
and cotton laces. Put into her mind the ambition to 
excel in her art, not only because it is a good thing to 
do in itself, but that she may make money. This is an 
incentive in all other trades, why not in this ? If you 
do all this with the right feeling in your heart, and in a 
kindly manner, depend upon it your servant will ap- 
preciate it at its proj)er value, although she may be a 
httle refractory at first, and you will reap your reward 
in securing to yourself a zealous and skillful helper, 
and a faithful and attached friend. 

The usual plan pursued by mistresses is to leave a 
girl entirely alone, to dress and act as she may please, 
and choose what companions she will, so long as her 
work is done. The train of evils that foUow is only 
what might be expected. The girl chooses to spend 
her leisure time with gay companions, and is very apt 
to form improper associates ; gets more and more fond 
of pleasure, and consequently loses ambition about her 
work ; grows slatternly, lazy, indifierent, and impudent; 
and the mistress sends her away, and says, " I knew it 
would be so I She gave promise, at first, of making a 
good servant, but the truth is, they are all bad alike." 

The girl thus turned away gets a half-hearted recom- 
mendation from her mistress, and soon finds another 
home, which she speedily leaves ; and thus she drifts 
about from place to place at medium wages, which 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 95 

grow less as she gets older, or she marries some fellow 
as thriftless as herself. 

Some ladies do not allow any " followers " at all, but 
this is going into the other extreme. An occasional 
visit from a young man of good principles will do youi 
servant no harm. It helps a servant very far towards 
doing well when her mistress takes an interest in what- 
ever most engages her thoughts and affections. She 
has her hopes and ambitions ; her cares and sorrows ; 
and, above all, she has her family ties ; and sympathy 
and affectionate interest are as dear to her as to other 
women. 

Try, too, as far as your means will allow, to make 
your servant comfortable. It must be somewhat dis- 
couraging to a woman who has finished a hard day's 
work to go up on a cold winter's night to her room 
where the temperature is forty degrees, and to go 
shivering to sleep on a "lumpy " mattress on which she 
could not sleep at all if she were not so tired. And, 
even if your means are somewhat straitened, you can, 
by the exercise of a little ingenuity, manufacture articles 
of furniture that will be quite comfortable, and wiU give 
the room an attractive appearance. Above all, she should 
have a good bed. 

But these matters are treated of more fully else- 
where in this volume, and it is only necessary to add that, 
if possible, some way should be contrived of warming 
the servant's room in winter. Unless you have one 
that you know you can trust, and that you have good 
reason to think will remain some time with yon. it 
would not do to put a stove in the room ; but in these 
days of furnaces, and fire-place heaters, it will be only 
a trifling expense to carry the heat from some part of 



96 THE HOME. 

the house into the servant's room through the safe me- 
diums of a pipe and a register. 

In this country, where there is such diversity in ways 
of hving and expense of Uving ; where the population 
is crowded in some places, and sparse in others ; ser- 
vants' wages necessarily vary so widely that it would 
be impossible to have a fixed scale that would apply 
everywhere. And, in fact, the scale is more evenly bal- 
anced than it would seem at first sight, for, in the many 
localities where the compensation is small, the cost of 
living is also small, and servants are allowed certain 
privileges that enable them to do quite as well as those 
in other places where wages are much higher But a 
great deal may be said of the comparative scale of prices 
in each locality, and it is a lamentable fact that, with 
few exceptions in our household service, unskilled labor 
commands very nearly as high wages as the skilled. 
This is especially true of female servants. Here and 
there will be found an exceptionally fine cook, nurse- 
maid, or laundress, who will command exceptionally 
high wages. But, in most cases, an ignorant, untidy 
girl, who has never learned to do any one thing exactly 
as it should be done, and who, moreover, does not care 
to learn, will ask and get very nearly, if not quite, 
the same amount per month that is given to a fairly 
good servant, who is tidy and careful, and anxious to do 
well. It is true that the latter is likely to keep the 
place, and the former to lose it, but she does not much 
care, for she soon finds another at the same price. 
This seems like ofl:ering a premium to ignorance and 
carelessness. And certainly no man could expect to 
prosper in business who paid to thriftless, careless, ig- 
norant assistants the same salaries that he gave to 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 97 

skilled and competent men. It is well Known, too, that 
the prospect of increased salaries is a great incentive to 
the ignorant and careless to do better. But what in- 
ducement have our servants to improve when they get 
paid at first as much as they can ever hope to receive ? 
It is difiicult to point out a remedy for this evil, 
which is really the foundation of much household 
mismanagement. Nothing can be done in such a case 
by individual eifort. The only way would be for 
housekeepers to cooperate in fixing a scale of wages 
suited to the particular locality, and to pay servants in 
proportion to their skill. 

The time allowed servants as their own also depends 
a great deal upon the customs of each section ; and 
upon some other contingencies, such as the number of 
servants in a family, the hours for meals, and the style 
in which the family live. But, as a general thing, good 
management on the part of the mistress will give a ser- 
vant nearly all of her evenings. She is on hand, if 
wanted, but she needs her evenings for rest from 
physical labor, and to do her sewing, in order that she 
may present that tidy appearance upon which you in- 
sist. And some part of every Sunday should be allowed 
her, and an occasional afternoon or evening for visiting 
her friends. 

Something must be trusted to the honesty of ser- 
vants. It is troublesome to lock up every pound of 
sugar, butter, etc., and dole it out in the exact propor- 
tions in which it should be used. These proportions 
cannot always be estimated to the grain, or the fraction 
of an ounce. You cannot be sure that the new barrel 
of flour, or bag of coffee is precisely, in every respect, 
like the last. And, besides, it is questionable if this 



98 THE HOME. 

practice does not injure the servant out of all propor- 
tion to the small gain to the mistress. A really dis- 
honest servant no one would wish to keep, and pilfering 
from these small stores will soon be detected, and fol- 
lowed by dismissal. They will sometimes use articles a 
little more freely, perhaps, than you would give them 
out. But they cannot waste much if the mistress is at 
all observant ; and, as was said in the opening of this 
paragraph, some trust must be placed in them. 

But the large supplies should, by all means, be kept 
under lock and key. Many persons who are honest 
under small temptations cannot withstand great ones, 
and a servant who has free access to a barrel of flour, 
and bag of coffee, and box of tea, might be tempted to 
take a little sometimes. She knows that it is not likely 
to be missed from so much. And there are generally 
evil and greedy counsellors among her associates to 
whom she confides the fact that she lives where there is 
an open store-room. But it is not only for this reason 
that the store-room door should be locked. If you are 
sure that you can trust your servant not to take a grain, 
we should still say : Lock up the store-room. You do 
not know what day you may lose your servant, and 
replace her with one of whom you know nothing. If it 
is your usual habit to keep the door of the store-room 
locked, the servants will not feel it a hardship, and will 
not complain. It is the most orderly way of house- 
keeping. Your store-room and its contents are then 
entirely under youi* own control — there is no wondering 
where things are, no waste, no confusion, and, what is 
better than all, no cause for suspicion. 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 99 



ARRANGING THE WORK OF THE HOUSE. 

The work must be reduced to a system. If it is done 
in a hap-hazard, whatever-comes-uppermost fashion, 
both mistress and servant will always be at work. 
System is necessary, whether you have one servant or 
half a dozen, and, in the latter case, it is impossible to 
get along without it. But, where you have only one or 
two, it is best not to trust to them to do their allotted 
work, just as it seems convenient to them, for even ex- 
perienced servants, who work well, seldom are good 
planners. That is not the business they have learned, 
and they expect to be directed. You know the wants 
and ways of all the members of your household, what 
little comforts they desire, and their hours for pleasure 
and business. So you are the one to arrange the work 
in such a manner that it will tit in snugly and comfort- 
ably with all these needs, and duties and pleasures. 
For this fact must not be lost sight of — that housekeep- 
ing is the art of making a home — it does not consist in 
keeping a house spotlessly clean, or getting the most 
work done in a given time, or in perpetually making 
something to tempt the appetite, or in straining every 
nerve to save money. Neatness and industry, and good 
wholesome cooking and economy, all belong to house- 
keeping, but everything must be made subservient to 
the grand central idea — so difficult to define even with 
many words, but so easily understood when expressed 
in one — home. 

It is comparatively easy to arrange the work so as to 
get a great deal done in a very short time, if you choose 
to make everything bend to that. But it is by no 
means easy to mark out a system that shall suit the 



100 THE HOME. 

peculiarities of tlie master of the house, (for every man 
cherishes an ideal of household comfort, and in his own 
house he naturally expects to realize it,) that shall give 
the children comfort and pleasure ; that will not prove a 
restraint to your guests ; that will not keep your ser- 
vant in a flurry and worry, and will give her some 
leisure time ; and that will enable you to give some 
portion of your time and thoughts to other matters 
than housekeeping. It is not easy, but it can be done. 
It will require time, patience, love, and some experience. 
Even after you have it marked out, it will have to be 
changed and modified, possibly abandoned altogether, 
and another commenced ; but at last you will bring it 
as nearly to perfection as anything can be in this sub- 
lunary world. And, once fixed, it will last your life- 
time, unless your circumstances change greatly. 

But, after your system is fixed, and in good working 
order, do not fall into the mistake of thinking that 
nothing will ever interfere with it. That would be 
making a discipline and a burden of what should be a 
comfort ; and, instead of a home you will have a sort 
of House of Correction. For a fearful thing under the 
sun is one of those excessively neat and systematic 
housekeepers that will not allow her arrangements to 
be put out of joint the least bit, not even by her hus- 
band, who has, most likely, bought everything the house 
contains, nor by dear little Charlie, or Mary, whose 
happiness and love is worth more than all the house- 
hold systems ever contrived. You must expect things 
to be " put about " sometimes for the accommodation 
of different members of your household, but it will not 
be for long, and the machine will run just as smoothly 
as ever as soon as the brakes are up. 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 101 

It is evident from the foregoing remarks that no 
housekeeper can arrange a system of work that will be 
exactly adapted to another, but the following rough 
plan is offered as a suggestion to be filled up, altered, 
or changed altogether, as may suit the convenience of 
each household : 



PLAN OF WORK FOR THE WEEK. 

MONDAY. 

This is the almost universal washing day of America. 
Housekeepers like to begin the week by doing the 
heaviest work, that it may be off their minds ; and 
there is a feeling that the soiled clothes must be got 
out of the way as soon as possible. Therefore Monday 
has become a household bugbear. Slop and suds all 
day in the neighborhood of the kitchen, a soapy atmo- 
sphere all through the house ; a " picked-up " dinner, 
the mistress hard at work, heated and worried ; the 
children in mischief, and the husband wondering what 
demon of misrule invented wash-days. Where there 
are servants enough to release the mistress from help- 
ing with the work wash-day is something less of an 
evil, but still bad enough to be dreaded by all the 
family. Now by changing the day to Tuesday, and by 
making all the preparations for the great event on 
Monday, this terrible ordeal may be so simplified and 
systematically carried out as to cause little or no annoy- 
ance. 

Therefore in our plan, Monday is not washing day, 



102 THE HOME. 

but a day for doing odd jobs, such as washing windows, 
brightening the silver, cleaning stair-rods, etc., etc. A 
host of them will come crowding into the housekeeper's 
mind, and she will find that the day is not long enough 
to get them all done, and some must take their turn on 
the next Monday. There is that closet you have so 
long been anxious should be cleaned ; that jar of pre- 
serves to be attended to, or they will spoil ; and various 
incidental matters of this kind in addition to the " odd 
jobs. " Monday will be a busy and a much valued day. 
It is a good time to select for all these extras, just after 
the rest of Sunday, and before the regular rush of the 
week's housework begins. 

But you must save time from this work that your ser- 
vant may, towards evening, help you to prepare the 
clothes for the next day's wash. Direct her to divide 
them into three parcels, the fine, the more common, but 
not much soiled, and the really dirty. While this is 
being done you can put down on your list the number 
of articles of each kind. It is well to do this, even 
with honest servants, for, if anything is missing, the 
owner is sure to insist that it was lost in the wash, and 
the list will at once show whether the charge is correct. 
Have ready three tubs of cold, soft water, and put in 
the clothes, having first rubbed soap over the parts 
most soiled, and leave them to soak all night. Then 
have the wash-boiler rinsed out, set on the back ot 
the stove or range, and filled nearly two thirds with 
cold soft water. 

TUESDAY. 

As soon as the breakfast is served, the boiler must 
be removed to the front of the stove. When the water 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 103 

boils, put into it half a teacup of washing fluid,* and a 
piece of hard soap, about two inches square, cut into 
shavings. Put in the fine clothes, and boil them twenty 
minutes. Take out with as little water as possible, and 
without wringing, put into clear, cold water. If there 
are any soiled spots remaining on the clothes, they 
should be rubbed out before wringing from this water 
into the bluing water. The tub of bluing water is 
set near the other, so that the articles shall fall into it 
from the wringer. 

Put your second division of clothes into the boiler, in 
the same water from which the fine things were taken, 
and repeat the same process ; but, if you have a third 
boiler full, it will be better to prepare fresh water. 

Take the clothes out of the blue water, and rinse in 
cold, soft* water, wring out, and hang out to dry.f 

With this plan of washing, and fair weather, the 
clothes will all be hung out by noon, unless the wash 
is very large, and the servant will have the afternoon 
for cleaning up the kitchen and wash-room, putting 
away the tubs, boiler, etc, and making herself tidy. In 
the evening, the fine clothes and most of the starched 
things are to be sprinkled and folded, ready for ironing, 
and the bread is to be " set," for the next day's baking. 

WEDNESDAY. 

The baking this morning need not be as large as that 
done on Saturday, and it should be done as early as 
the morning work will allow, so that the servant may 
not be hurried in beginning the ironing, and do 



* Directions for making washing fluid, page 113. 

t For further directions in regard to washing, see page 148 



104 THE HOME. 

her work badly. She can easily do the ordinary fine 
ironing of a family and her other work in this part of a 
day. But, if there is much ruflSing on ladies' dresses, 
and fine work on children's clothes, it will require a 
whole day's hard work to do it, and, in such a case, the 
mistress should hire some one to assist, or do all the 
ordinary housework herself. In the evening, the plainer 
and coarser clothes are to be sprinkled, and folded for 
ironing. 

THURSDAY. 

In the morning the ironing is to be finished. Where 
it is stipulated in the bargain that the servant should 
have half a day every week, this is the best afternoon 
to give her. It is the leisure interval between ironing 
and sweeping ; and, as it is the day usually given by 
housekeepers, it enables the girl to meet her friends 
when she goes out. 

FRIDAY. 

Besides the every day sweeping, dusting, and putting 
to rights, it is necessary to devote one day in the week 
to this special duty, and Friday suits best for the pur- 
pose. The sitting-room, dining-room, halls, and stair- 
ways must be swept often, but once a week will be 
found generally sufficient for the rest of the house. To 
do this thoroughly and well will require the whole of a 
day in addition to the ordinary work. In the evening 
the bread must be set to rise for the next day's baking. 

SATURDAY. 

This is the busiest day of the week. There is the 
regular morning work ; then the baking ; then the 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 105 

scrubbing arn^. scouring. [It has been shown in a for- 
mer part of this work that much scrubbing, which is 
now thought necessary, may be avoided, but still there 
are some things that must be scrubbed, only let there 
be as little of it as possible.] And the latter part of 
the day should be occupied in preparing everything for 
the next day, so that Sunday shall be a day of rest for 
all as far as practicable. The whole breakfast can be 
so arranged as to occupy but ver}^ few minutes in cook- 
ing, and, in winter, nearly everything for dinner can be 
prepared ; and, in summer, most things will keep well 
on ice, or in a cool cellar. The Sunday dessert can al- 
ways be made on Saturday. But do not let the Satur- 
day's work run into the evening. 

SUNDAY. 

Do no work at all on this day, except what is actually 
necessary for comfort — " thou, nor thy servant." If 
you see a dusty corner, or a dim window pane, let it 
alone until the next day. Some putting of things to 
rights there must be, some making of beds and cooking. 
But there is no need of getting up especially elaborate 
dinners on this day, and, if Saturda}^ afternoon has 
been employed as it should have been, your cooking 
will not occupy very much time. But don't be phari- 
saical about the work, accounting some work desper- 
ately wicked, and others sinless. There are people 
who will stuff a turkey and roast it, and cook three or 
four vegetables, and stew cranberry sauce for dinner, 
and yet will not make up a pan of biscuit for supper, 
(an operation that requires but a few minutes,) because, 
forsooth, " it is wicked to work in flour on Sundays !" 
This is only one of a dozen senseless ideas of the same 



106 THE HOME. 

kind. The idea is not that any particular kind of work 
is in itself sinful on this day, but that it is the day set 
apart for Christian worship, and you and your family 
desire to attend church ; and to have the servant attend 
also, and, if there were no higher principles involved, 
all creatures need a rest one day in seven. 

This plan is intended for families where but one ser- 
vant is kept, but if there are two, the same system will 
be found to work well, only in that case, the mistress 
need do but little of the work herself. The servants are 
her hands, but she must think for them, and this is no 
light task. And then, too, there is the constant over- 
sight of everything. This is absolutely necessary with 
our present race of servants. You may teach Bridget 
how to wash dishes properly, (a thing, by-the-way, that 
almost all servants do very badly,) and having watched 
her a dozen times, and become convinced that she 
understands every detail, if you neglect her for a month, 
you will find that the plates begin to feel " sticky," and 
the glasses to look "cloudy," and if you then come 
upon her unawares, while at this task, you will find that 
she does scarcely a single thing as you directed her. It 
is not necessary to overlook every part of the work 
every day — one might almost as well do it one's self — 
but the servant must feel that she is not to be left to 
herself to do the work her way, but that you require it 
to be done your way, and that you intend to see that 
your wishes are attended to ; and then, too, you must 
cultivate your habit of observation, that you may take 
in things at a glance. There is an old,, true proverb, 
** The eye of a master is worth both his hands." So 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 107 

far from overlooking everything every day, it is best not 
to do it, for this necessitates being in the kitchen a great 
deal, and that is a bad thing both for your servant and 
yourself. Your time can be much more valuably em- 
ployed elsewhere ; and such constant talking, directing, 
and helping lessens your servant's respect for you. 
There is always a point, beyond which it is best not to 

go- 
Unnecessary helping of servants with their work is 
injurious to them in every way, besides tending to mako 
them dissatisfied, for they are much happier when fully 
employed. This is very different from being over- 
worked. Where there is but one servant in a family of 
two or three persons, the mistress will have to help a 
little, and if the family consists of five or six, she will 
have to do the lighter work, for the heavy work will be 
as much as one girl can manage properly. But two 
girls can do the work of such a family with ease. Em- 
ploying too many servants leads to idleness among 
them, and all its attendant evils. 

The essential point in having the work of the house 
done without hurry and jar is that the servants should 
rise early. That they may do this, and get as much 
sleep as they need, encourage them to go to bed early. 
There is very little for them to do in the evenings, and 
no good reason for their sitting up late. But, unless 
the business of the master of the house requires an 
early breakfast, there is no need that the mistress should 
rise early. It is often considered a mark of a. poor 
housekeeper to remain in bed until eight o'clock on a 
winter's morning, when, in fact, this has nothing what- 
ever to do with the matter. Sometimes early rising is 
a duty, from the nature of the family occupations, and 



108 THE HOME. 

in such cases every one should retire early, for want of 
sufficient sleep is a fruitful source of nervous diseases. 
But in many families there is no such reason for early ris- 
ing, and to them the evening is the happiest time — father, 
mother, children, brothers, sisters, and friends are all 
united in a delightful home circle — and they naturally 
desire to prolong the evening as far as they reasonably 
can. And going to bed late necessitates a later rising. 
Some housekeepers who sit up late, and feel that it is an 
essential of good housekeeping to rise early, try to make 
up the deficiency by sleeping in the afternoon ; but 
this seems something like the famous expedient of the 
Irish woman, who, in order to make her dress longer, 
cut a piece off the top, and sewed it to the bottom. 

The servants have not the same duties to keep them 
up late at night, and it is part of their duty to you to 
rise early, and do their allotted work. You can easily 
find out, when you do get up, whether they have done 
their work, and have done it well. 

WASHING AND IRONZNG. 

Every year, it would seem that the washing and 
ironing becomes more and more of a burden to house- 
keepers. Our grandmothers, apparently, did not think 
much of it, for they had no machines, patent wringers, 
or wonderful magic soaps, and they arose at day dawn, 
and set themselves or their maids at the wash-tubs, and 
did their work in the hardest possible way without 
complaint, so far as we know. But their rubbing, and 
slopping, and pounding,* made "wash-day" quite as 
great a bugbear to the male members of the family as it 

•» Tlie clothes, after being taken from the boiler, were pouuded in a barrel. 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 109 

is at this time, and a house pervaded by hot, soapy 
steam was no more agreeable to our grandfathers than 
it is to our husbands and brothers, judging from the dole- 
ful plaints of this famous institution, they wrought into 
both prose and poetry. But we are not as strong as 
our grandmothers ; our occupations are more varied, 
our style of living entirely different, and to us the wash- 
ing and ironing is the hUe noire of housekeeping. The 
ironing is especially tedious in these days of pujS&ng, 
crimping, and fluting of bias tucks and interminable 
lengths of ruffling. Where there is but one servant, 
even with a hired washerwoman, the mistress has to do 
very nearly all the other work of the house for two, 
and perhaps three days of the week ; and, with two 
servants, a good deal has to be done to help them out. 
Usually a woman is hired to come for a day to do all, 
or the heaviest part of the washing, and then, all day 
long, the kitchen and wash-room are in a mess and a 
clutter, (to use technical terms,) a perpetual chatting 
goes on between the hired woman and the servants ; 
they all seem demoralized for that day, giving the mis- 
tress an impudent stare when she comes into the kit- 
chen, as much as to say, " What business have you 
here ?" The woman has her own way of washing, and 
very often it is not a good way, and she will not change 
it to please you. She will rub the clothes to pieces on 
a washboard ; she will let the flannels lie in dirty suds; 
she will put a great piece of soda into the tub whenever 
youi' back is turned. And then she so often disappoints 
you — she has a job of house-cleaning, or somebody is 
sick, or she is detained in the country. And some- 
times she comes to you half-tipsy. In short, the hired 
vviisherwoman may be voted a nuisance. 



110 THE HOME. 

To escape these evils, there is the alternative of giving 
the clothes to the washerwoman that she may do the 
washing and ironing at her own house. This plan cer- 
tainly adds very much to the comfort of the family. 
Everything smiles serene until the clothes come home 
torn, streaked, "rough dry," spots on shirt bosoms, 
and linen collars, smeared ruffles, and a general air of 
" mussiness " pervading the whole basket ; for the wo- 
man who washed badly at your house will not do any 
better at her own. This description of the clothes-bas- 
ket may seem an overdrawn picture to those who have 
never "put the washing out," but most housekeepers 
will recognize it as faithful. For there is no work that 
women undertake to do that is, as a general rule, done 
so badly as the washing and ironing. A washerwoman 
who perfectly understands her business is such a trea- 
sure in the city that she is out of the reach of people 
of moderate means, for she can command any price she 
pleases to ask. It might be supposed that the demand 
for good work would create the supply, but this rule 
does not seem to hold good in regard to any branch of 
housework. In country places it is difficult to get 
washerwomen of any kind, good or bad. 

Putting the washing out has also another disadvan- 
tage, which is a very serious one — it is very costly. All 
the household linen added to the various articles of 
wearing apparel make a long list. Some lessen the 
expense by having the smaller articles, or the coarser 
clothing, done at home by the servant, but this takes 
nearly two days of her time, and gives us two betes noires, 
one outside of the house, and one in. 

Clothes sent to a really good laundry to be done up 
win come back to you looking so dainty and attractive 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. Ill 

that it is a pleasure to lift them out of the basket. — un- 
til you come across the bill ! Of all the present con- 
trivances for doing the washing and ironing, there is 
none so comfortable, so satisfactory, and so costly as 
this. 

A word or two in regard to washing-machines. Some 
of these are admirable, and a family without a servant 
should by all means have one, for it will prove to be a 
great saving of strength and time. But, somehow, ser- 
vants and washing-machines do not seem to get along 
well together. A few of the more intelligent like them, 
and use them properly, but the majority, strange to say, 
do not like them at all, and generally contrive to get 
them out of order after using for a few weeks. 

When we consider the great trouble that the washing 
and ironing is in a family, the difficulty of securing the 
services of hired women who are competent for this 
work, and the cost of the public laundries, is it not sur- 
prising that housekeepers do not club together, and 
establish laundries of their own ? For several years 
now this plan has been advocated by writers on house- 
hold matters, and housekeepers have recognized the 
plan as a desirable one ; but, as yet, we have not heard 
that it has ever been put into practice. The trouble and 
expense of organizing such a laundry on a scale as 
large as is generally recommended probably deters 
ladies from undertaking it. The expense and trouble 
would, however, be found to be less after the first year. 
But it is not necessary to build up a cooperative system 
on any extensive scale. Let half a dozen families in a 
city rent a room in some locality where rents are mode- 
rate, and yet not too far to be conveniently visited. A 
rather large room, and one already supplied with hot 



112 THE HOME. 

and cold water, should be selected. The additional 
cost of stationary wash-tubs, boilers, ironing-tables, etc., 
will not be great, or they might be furnished from the 
private kitchens and laundries of the club. Two good 
washers and ironers hired by the month, will, probably, 
be found sufficient for the work. If the ironing is very 
difficult, extra help might be hired on certain days of 
every week. In so many families are generally to be 
found some ladies with nothing particular to do, who 
will gladly undertake the superintendence of the laun- 
dry by turns, or each one can take charge of some 
particular thing. Each family to pay so much per 
week for number of pieces, the price, of course, to be 
fixed according to the expense of conducting the laun- 
dry. This will be found to cost each family about the 
same as it would to hire a woman to come to the house 
to do the work, but all the vexation and trouble will be 
saved. But a more economical, plan, and one that will 
be found to work much better, would be for the half 
dozen families to organize themselves into a society, 
with president, treasurer, etc., and to deposit ni the 
hands of the treasurer a certain sum monthly or quar- 
terly in advance, (this tax, of course, to bear a propor- 
tion to the number of pieces sent by each family,) and 
let this common fund be used for all expenses of rent, 
fuel, servants' hire, etc., including the salary of a superin- 
tendent. It will be easy to find women willing to un- 
dertake this latter office, and to do it well, for a very 
reasonable salary — women who are now wearing their 
lives out in doing sewing very badly that pays them 
miserably. This plan may seem an extravagant one at 
the first glance, but, on trial, will be found cheap, 
especially to large families. Increase the number of 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 113 

families to twenty, and the expenses will decrease in 
proportion. 

In the country, where the washerwomen do not ex- 
pect hot and cold water, and stationary tubs to their 
hand, this plan will be attended with very little ex- 
pense. Rooms rent for a low price, and the ladies can 
mrnish tubs, irons, tables, etc., from their own houses. 
Perhaps in both city and country the greatest difficulty 
will be in finding women competent to do the work 
well. There will be plenty willing to undertake it, who 
could not be induced to "hire out" to private families; 
but, as we have before stated, there are but few wash- 
erwomen who understand their business. Bat they will 
do their work much better in an establishment where 
they must conform to certain fixed rules, and where 
each has her allotted task, than when left to their own 
devices, and practice and constant supervision will soon 
make them comparatively skillful. 

If washing is done in the house, it should be accord- 
ing to a system, and the work should be so regulated 
as to make as little trouble and annoyance as possible. 
The plan suggested in "Arranging the work of the 
House " will be found easy and practicable. 

The washing-fluid there referred to . is made in the 
following manner : 

Put into a brass kettle (tin and iron are corroded by 
the action of the soda) sixteen quarts of soft water, four 
pounds of washing-soda, and a piece of lime the size 
of a hen's egg. Boil until reduced to fourteen quarts, 
when pour oflj' as clearly as possible, into bottles, cool, 
and cork tightly, and set away for future use. 

This fiuid does not injure clothes in the slightest de- 
gree, if properly used; and it cleans them without 



114 THE HOME. 

wash-board scrubbing, which does injure them ; and it 
helps to whiten them. Half a teacup is sufl&cient for 
a medium-sized boiler. Let the housekeeper measure 
this out to the washerwoman, for if she is allowed ac- 
cess to it she will certainly use it too freely, under the 
impression that it will save her trouble. 

It is a good plan, especially in winter, to wash the 
flannels first in the morning, as they will dry moro 
quickly if hung out while the sun is hot. Quick wash- 
ing, and rinsing in hot water, and quick drying are all 
necessary to keep flannels from shrinking. Shake them 
out, and do not wring them. Colored and white flan- 
nels should be washed separately. Colored lawns, 
calicoes, etc., if washed in the ordinary way are x^assed 
through two rinsing waters. It is best not to rub soap 
on them. A good way of doing up such dresses (and 
the only one where they show a tendency to fade) is to 
wash them in starch water, using no soap, except on 
those very much soiled. The starch cleanses them, and 
preserves the colors. A pound of flour starch will be 
sufficient to put in water enough to wash two or three 
dresses. This recipe, however, does not suit black cali- 
coes very well. The color is preserved, but the starch 
gives them a dusty and smeared look. These calicoes 
are very difficult to wash in any way to make them look 
fresh and new. A good housekeeper recommends that 
a tea-cup of weak lye be put in the water in which they 
are washed, and that they be starched in the water in 
which pared potatoes have been boiled, which will 
stiffen them without making them look smeared. 

Sugar is best for starching laces — a lump or two 
dropped into cold water. A teaspoonful of coflee added 
to it will give that yellow tinge which is desirable be- 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 115 

cause it imparts to the lace an appearance of softness 
and richness. 

After ironing, the clothes should be well dried before 
putting away. 

THE MEALS. 

It is not the purpose of this book to treat of cooking, 
or to give details of what is best for us to eat and 
drink. These things have already been treated of in 
two volumes of this Series.* But a few things will 
bear repetition, and some remarks under the above 
head come properly only within the scope of this work. 

There has recently been much discussion about the 
proper hours for the three meals that we, in this coun- 
try, take every day, but the fact is that the hours for 
meals cannot be fixed arbitrarily. They must vary with 
the occupations and habits of different families. The 
farmer, the mechanic, and the laboring man take their 
breakfasts very early ; the merchant takes his a little 
later ; and the student has his later still. All need 
some kind of a mid-day meal, and whether it shall be 
dinner or lunch must be decided by their own judg- 
ment and experience. It is now thought most health- 
ful to take the heaviest meal after the day's work is 
done, and this is doubtless best where it does not con- 
flict with other rules of health ; but it will not do for a 
man who finishes his work at six in the evening, and 
goes to bed at eight, to eat his dinner after his day's 
work is done. There would be no time before sleep in 
which to digest a heavy meal. It will be best for him 
to have his dinner at twelve o'clock, take as long a rest 



* " Wiiat Shall we Eat ?" and '• Eating and Drinking." 



116 THE HOME. 

after it as he can, and to eat a comparatively light sup- 
per. But for persons whose business does not require 
them to rise early, who sit up late, and work hard dur- 
ing their working hours, a rather substantial lunch at 
mid-day, and dinner at five or six is the most healthful. 
But the meals should be partaken of regularly at the 
hours fixed upon. 

The kind of food is of more importance than the 
hours at which it is to be taken. But this, too, must in 
some degree be adapted to the wants of different classes 
of people. A farmer thinks it best for him to have 
what he calls plain fare, but a merchant or professional 
man would consider this to be coarse, heavy, unpalat- 
able food. And, considering the great proportion of 
dyspeptics among farmers, it is a question whether 
such a "plain fare" is best for them after all. Because 
it answered " in the good old times " it does not follow 
that it is suitable to the present. The progress of 
civilization has changed us physically, as well as men- 
tally, and we need our food more daintly prepared, and 
more delicately served, than our ancestors liked it. The 
fried meats, fatty gravies, heavy boiled puddings, and 
tough pie crusts on which they throve would certainly 
give us the dyspepsia if our stomachs would allow us 
to eat them, but, fortunately, we turn from them all 
with disgust. Housekeepers only half recognize this 
great change, and it is to their ignorance of this fact, 
or their false reasoning upon it, that we owe that scourge 
— Dyspepsia — that is riding rampant all over the land. 
We are hungry when we seat ourselves at the family 
table where the material is abundant and good, but 
nothing is appetizing. Our hunger suddenly vanishes, 
but we eat somethmg under a sort of inward protest. 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 117 

and an hour after our hunger returns, and we eat 
irregularly, and take refuge in candies and sweet 
things, and highly-flavored sauces. 

The materials that we have are the same that our an- 
cestors used — beef, and mutton, and fish, and vege- 
tables, etc. ; we need the same variety of strengthening 
meat, vegetables, fruit, fatty matter, and saccharine 
matter, and the cereals ; but they must be differently 
cooked, dressed, and served to be palatable and health- 
ful for us. 

Nor will it do for Americans to regulate their meals 
and diet by the French, Italian, or English customs. 
Climates that differ so essentially must necessarily pro- 
duce very different physiques. The two meals and a 
half per day of the French will not agree with us any 
better than the four meals of the Enghsh. Experience 
has shown that the custom of having three meals a day, 
which prevails all over this country, is a wise one. The 
fault is not that we have not learned to regulate our 
meals as to time, quantity and quality, but that we have 
not learned to cook our food in the best way. 

It has been the custom among us to eat substantial 
breakfasts, but, of late, it has become the fashion to say 
that we should breakfast on tea and toast, or have a 
cup of coffee, with bread and butter, and fruits. Some 
substitute wine for coffee. This has a delicate and at- 
tractive sound, but such breakfasts do not suit our 
climate at all, nor do they agree with our habits as a 
nation of workers. A diet like this may do during the 
hot season in the Gulf States, but, even there, the addi- 
tion of one somewhat substantial dish will be found 
more healthful, if there is any work to be done during 
the day. Wines are not the proper drinks for our 



118 THE HOME. 

breakfasts. Coffee and tea suit us much better. In 
most of these matters the prevailing custom points out 
the right way. 

But Cooking is an art (or science) not sufficiently 
valued in America. Each young housekeeper cooks as 
she was taught by her mother, or some elder friend, or, 
perhaps, quite as often she picks up her information 
from the first cooks she employs after her marriage; and 
all her life long she runs in the same groove. She 
has a cook-book, perhaps, and consults it in the making 
of a few cakes and jellies, and having culled out some 
half dozen recipes, which she uses over and over again 
for a series of years, cook-books are of no further ser- 
vice to her. How common it is in a family of grown- 
up sons and daughters to hear the remark : " The 
things at home are all good, but I must take a meal 
somewhere else occasionally to get up an ajppetite. I 
seem to need a change." Of course. Nobody can go 
on for twenty years eating the same things on certain 
days of the week, at certain seasons, prepared always 
in the same way, without needing a change. Some 
favorite dish each one has, and in all the years to come 
memory will revert to " Mother's apple-dumplings," or, 
" Mother's plum-puddings," as the most delicious dish 
ever invented. But, on the whole, they are weary 
enough of the monotonous round. It is not good in 
any business to get into grooves and ruts, and glide 
along the same road forever, and this is certainly true 
of cooking. This progresses and changes with the 
times like any other art or science, and to succeed in it 
housekeepers must make it a study, and not a dull rou- 
tine. Many regard it as a finished art, but there is 
always something new to be learned in it, and house- 



KEEPma THE HOUSE. 119 

keepers, like lawyers, physicians, authors, merchants, 
etc., must modify their practice, or change it altogether 
as civilization progi'esses. 

In this pursuit, as in every other at the present day, 
books, magazines, and newspapers note the changes. 
The number of household books and journals now 
published in this country show plainly that our house- 
keepers do manifest a desire to make a study of their 
art, and to learn what others are doing in the same 
neld. There is scarcely a weekly newspaper that has 
not a household department, and even the daily papers 
gladly make room among politics and news for a good 
household article. It will be well for every housekeeper 
to have some journal on which she can rely, or occa- 
sionally to buy a good book on the subject, even as the 
lawyer and physician consult the Law and Medical 
Journals, not to yield them a blind obedience, but to 
learn what is being done by others in their profession 
in other parts of the country and the world ; to glean 
out a useful hint here and there, and to " keep up with 
the times." Of course they are not all good — there is 
a great deal of trash written on this subject as well as 
every other — but some are good — good enough at least 
to be very useful to you. 

And do not be ashamed because you are laughed at 
ior " keeping house by book." Housekeeping is not a 
thing that we do right by instinct, and, is it any more 
of a disgrace to be taught by a good book than by a 
good housekeeper ? And the latter are so very rare. 
Exj^erienced housekeepers there are in plenty, but ex- 
perience does not always give wisdom. We know a 
woman who had kept house for thirty-five years, and 
had made bread twice a week diu'ing all that time, ex- 



120 THE HOME. 

cepfc when prevented by an occasional illness, and at the 
end of the thirty-five years her bread was as heavy and 
*' soggy " as in the first year she made it ; and we know 
another whose husband bad dealt in clams for seven- 
teen years, having sometimes as many as twenty thou- 
sand on hand at once, and, in all that time, she had not 
learned to cook a clam so that it was even palatable ; 
and anything more unwholesome than her " doughy " 
clam fritters, and tough, leathery fish cut up into 
chowder, or smothered under wet crackers, and called 
by courtesy a clam stew, it would be difficult to imagine. 
It is unnecessary to state that a cook-book had never 
made its wa3' into either of these houses. They knew 
no better way than their own, and no doubt thought 
those who complained of their cooking very ill-natured, 
or ignorant. Experience is not to be contemned when 
added to knowledge, but singly it is of little value. It 
is not claimed that any household book or journal is in- 
fallible, and just here is where experience wiU help you. 
You will find that some things can be added or sub- 
tracted from the recipes with advantage, and that some 
of the rules for household management do not suit 
your family, and you will modify or change them ac- 
cordingly. It may be that in ten years you will be able 
to write a much better household book yourself, but 
none the less are you indebted to your old friend for ail 
foundation knowledge, and to periodical household 
nijurer for the hints that you have worked into such a 
goodly shape. 

And, if you cannot keep the recipes " in your head," 
it is no matter for discouragement. Have them where 
you can easily refer to them. If you have ideas about 
other branches of housekeeping, ideas about training 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 121 

your children, ideas for the home circle, and for society, 
your head is pretty full, without retaining the exact 
proportions of eggs, butter, sugar, cream, flour, and 
flavoring that enter into the composition of a particular 
pudding. 

The present style of cooking with so many " made 
dishes," as housekeepers call them, is more troublesome 
than the perpetual " plain roast or boiled," but is not as 
expensive. And, to keep house well, one must expect 
to take trouble. And, if more troublesome, it is not 
such a weariness to prepare meals with a choice of the 
variety we have at present, as it was when there was 
little beside "plain roast or boiled." Those families 
who have what they call " plain, substantial dinners " 
of huge pieces of meat, ''often swimming in grease,) 
plain boiled potatoes, and stewed tomatoes that have 
been stirred around a few times over the fire, instead of 
being cooked until they were thick, and then well sea- 
soned, with dessert only once or twice a week, and soup 
as a rarity, are not by any means the most healthy, nor 
are these establishments conducted on the most econo- 
mical principles, although it may seem so to those who 
have never tried any other way. The every-day dinners 
require care, taste, and skill — first to select dishes that 
are seasonable, and then to arrange them so as to ha^^e 
a variety during the week, and where this is impracti- 
cable, to prepare them in a variety of styles ; and 
lastly, to arrange the table in an attractive manner. 
The three courses of, first, soup ; then meat, or fish, 
and vegetables ; and then dessert, will be found the 
most attractive and healthy for the family, and the most 
economical also. It is not necessary to have desserts 
that are troublesome to prepare, and it m certainly best 



122 THE HOME. 

not to have ricli ones often, but something in the way 
of fruits or " sweet things," is not only palatable but 
wholesome, after partaking of meat, if the dessert con- 
sist of nothing but baked apples and cream, and some 
very plain cake. During the fruit season there is no 
difficulty in finding materials for desserts, and in the 
winter we have the canned fruits to help us out. Soups 
are easily made, and of so great a variety as to mate- 
rial, that we need not hesitate what to select in any sea- 
son. 

A servant who can set a table properly is almost as 
rare as one who knows how to wash dishes, and it is 
not such a very common thing to find housekeepers 
who arrange their tables handsomely. Provided that 
the dishes are clean, they think it is not much matter 
how they are put on. But, let the things be as clean as 
they may, if they are set on askew, in a hap-hazard 
fashion, the table will present a slovenly appearance. 
And, as the manners of children are cultivated througU 
the senses quite as much as by precept, this helter- 
skelter, disorderly setting of the table, leads those chil- 
dren seated around it to think that, provided they eat 
to satisfy their hunger, it is no matter how they do it, 
and careless and slovenly table manners are the result. 
Your handsome china, and cut glass will not show to 
any advantage on such a table. 

But whether you have decorated china, or plain stone 
ware, if it is glossy with cleanliness, and the dishes 
placed symmetrically on the table with due regard to 
what should be appropriate neighbors ; if you have a 
spotless table-cloth, and clean, whole napkins ; pretty 
table mats ; bright knives, and silver ; shining glass, 
with, perhaps, a dish or two of a fancy pattern ; and, if 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 123 

practicable, a few fragrant flowers ; your table will cer- 
tainly be attractive, and the charm will extend to the 
contents of the dishes, so that everything will seem to 
have a more delicate flavor. 

All this requires more artistic management than can 
be reasonably expected from a servant. Instruct her in 
regard to the general arrangement, but, before each 
meal, go into the dining-room, and give the fancy 
touches yourself. It will not require more than five 
minutes. And see that everything is there, that there 
shall be no running to the closet for the salt-cellars, 
extra spoons, etc. 

One other thing in relation to the meals is of such 
importance that it certainly must not be left out of these 
hints. There should be pleasant conversation — not a 
monologue from one of the two heads of the house, 
nor yet a dialogue between them, but lively talk that 
passes from lip to lip. Some famihes take their meals 
in almost total silence— not because they are morose, or 
that they have not enough to say at other times — but 
simply because such has become their habit. Fast eat- 
ing and dyspepsia are very apt to be also habits of such 
a family. But even if these evils do not result, such 
meals are too business-like and unsocial. And here, as 
in all the social Hfe of the family, the mistress must be 
the leader. She may think this is too much to lay upon 
her, as, of course, it is her place to see that no one is 
neglected in serving, and she has also to preside over 
the tea and colYee urns. But she need not bear the 
burden of the conversation, only be on the look-out to 
see that it is kept up. If it flags, a word or two from 
her will set it going again. Some ladies rather discour- 
age conversation at their tables, because it prolongs 



124 THE HOME. 

the meals, thus taking time away from the beloved 
housework. But the additional pleasantness and health- 
fulness should be held in greater importance than get- 
ting the work all done in a given time. For a family 
to dispatch a breakfast in ten minutes, and a dinner in 
twenty, would, no doubt, be a very fine thing if they 
are Bedouin Arabs, but we fail to see what advantage it 
can possibly be if they are living in a settled and en- 
lightened community, while the disadvantages are many 
and obvious. 

It used to be the fashion, and is still the custom in 
some places, for the lady of the house to remain in the 
dining-room for a while after the meals were concluded, 
to see that the table was properly cleared, and the 
dishes properly washed. It might be well to revive the 
old custom. Or, if this takes time that cannot well be 
spared from other duties, let the mistress, when her 
servant first comes to her, take it for granted that she 
knows nothing of this apparently simple service, and 
instruct her in every detail, and afterwards take time 
occasionally to see if her instructions are followed. 
This course will prevent much waste, dirt, and bad 
management. For the way for persons of moderate 
means to live generously and well, is not to waste any- 
thing. Collect butter and fat from the plates for mak- 
ing the future soap ; if nice pieces of meat are left upon 
the plates, put them aside for the. beggars who come to 
your door ; and do not allow the bread left upon the 
bread plates to be thrown away, but reserve it for pud- 
dings, or to crumb up for various dishes where bread 
crumbs are used. We do not advise gathering up the 
pieces of bread by the sides of the plates of the guests, 
t® be used for these purposes, although thiB is recom. 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 126 

mended by a popular English cook-book. This might, 
we think, be called repulsive economy. If small salt- 
cellars are used for each person, see that the salt re- 
maining in them is thrown out, for servants often 
neglect this to save themselves the trouble of washing 
them. The plates should be well scraped before put- 
ting into the dish-pan, and the dregs thrown out of the 
cups and glasses. China should be washed in hot soap- 
suds, and rinsed in clear, hot water. Glass may be 
washed and rinsed in either cold or hot water, but 
must be wiped immediately. Dry with one towel and 
polish with another. Have a little brush convenient in 
case it should be needed for the crevicies of the raised 
ornamentation on the china, and for jugs in which the 
hand cannot be inserted, when, of course, the dish- 
cloth is not available. The knives should be cleaned 
alter every meal, and the silver once a week. 

One thing more should be mentioned in regard to 
preparing the meals. You cannot make good things 
of bad ingredients. This is a royal rule that you will 
do well to bear in mind. Buy the best flour, butter, 
lard, bread, etc. It is the most economical plan, also, 
for not only do you use good things more carefully, but 
it often happens that the articles made of poor ingre- 
dients are so bad that they are not eaten, and yoii are 
compelled to throw them away. 

GIVING ENTEETAINMENTS. 

This phrase is generally supposed to mean giving 
dinners, supper parties, and the like, but we do not 
purpose placing upon it any limitation of this kind, but 
shall treat it in connection with the society which the 



126 THE HOME. 

heads of our house shall gather around them for the 
pleasure and benefit of the home ckcle. 

We wish that we could be sure that they would enter 
mto society. For, leaving out the very fashionable 
classes among us. whose numbers are small, and who 
Uve in a round of gaiety, there is very little of what 
might be called society in most neighborhoods, either 
of city or country. Even wealthy families, with abund- 
ance of leisure, (and this is especially true of country 
places,) seem to think that nothing is required of them 
except to live for themselves and families, and, possibly, 
a few friends ; and those families whose means are 
limited, find plenty of excuses for keeping aloof from 
society, in the claims that their daily duties make upon 
their time, and in the scantiness of their wardrobes. 
.Among the young, unmarried people there is, perhaps, 
in the course of the year, a good deal of random, reck- 
less visiting, party-going, and attending places of 
amusement. But that is not society, properly speak- 
ing, as may be known from the fact that the acquaint- 
ances of one year are often an entirely different set from 
the last ; and, from the more telling fact that it is a very 
common thing in cities for a family of brothers and sis- 
ters each one to have a circle of his or her own friends 
with whom the others have only a casual acquaintance. 
Parents and sisters often know absolutely nothing 
about the friends of the son and brother. This cannot 
happen in the country where everybody knows every- 
body, but there also there is no society that unites 
parents, brothers and sisters in one common bond. 

And, even this loose kind of society, Americans are 
apt to give up when they have passed their first youth 
— chiefly, no doubt, because it was so loosely put to- 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 127 

getlier, and formed of such incongruous elements that 
it had no hold upon their lives. How common it is in 
the country to hear such remarks as the following : 
" This a dull neighborhood !'" " Nobody visits here." 
" We have no time for visiting — no way of getting 
about." And in cities we hear : " We are not a family 
who visit much." *' You must not expect me to come and 
see you, for I have got into the habit of staying at 
home," etc. 

When society comprises only young, unmarried people 
it cannot last, and, in fact, never becomes what it 
should be — the controlling social power of a neighbor- 
hood. To have stability and influence it must comprise 
all ages above childhood. Then, when the young folks 
marry, instead of leaving it and sinking into obscurity, 
and thus gradually dissolving the society, they still re- 
main in it, playing a different role. It is only in America 
that society is so exclusively given up to the boys and 
girls. 

In the cities, and in country towns, there is no excuse 
for this state of things. In the latter, friends live near 
each other, and in the former the facilities for cheap 
travel are so great that distance is a matter of minor 
importance. Some excuse there is for families w^ho 
live in real country neighborhoods, where friends 
are separated by several miles of rough road, and 
whose only reliance in going about is placed on one or 
two overworked farm-horses. But, if these families 
were all moved by a strong desire for social intercourse, 
it is probable that the rough roads would be made 
smoother, and, in making provision for yearly expenses, 
money would be set aside for keeping an extra horse. 
Money can be had for other things that the family 



128 THE HOME. 

greatly desire — an expensive piece of furniture pei> 
haps — and why not for this purpose ? And, besides, 
there must sometimes be a way contrived for the young 
folks to pay a visit. Why not extend the contrivance 
throughout the year, and give all opportunities for en- 
joying society ? In this, as in very many other things, 
" where there's a will there's a way." 

But, you say you cannot afford to waste time that 
way ? Are you sure that it is a waste of time ? You 
need not join a society of spies who pick out each 
other's faults and gossip about them, nor yet a society 
of frivolous people who strive to out-do each other in 
extravagant dressing and costly entertainments. This 
would be worse than a waste of time. Two or three 
intelligent young women of tact and address can, 
even in one of the "dull "neighborhoods, form a society 
out of the materials they find there, the young and the 
old, the witty and the stupid, the elegant and the plain, 
the gay and the grave, the industrious and the idle, 
even taking in the gossips that will in a few years be 
pronounced " delightful " by every visitor to the place. 
The " tone " that they give it will be its own as long as 
it exists. 

Out of three hundred working days in the year 
can you not spare some time for recreation ? And do 
you not need it ? For your own sakes you should cul- 
tivate society, and have a moderate amount of pleasure- 
making throughout the year. It will keep you young, 
fresh, and bright to throw aside cares and work some- 
times, and surely these are great gains. And good 
society is veiy improving — your mind will be more 
active than if you drew all its food from books. It ia 
not necessary for this purpose that there should be 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 129 

formal meetings and solemn discourse. The lively talk 
of a huckleberry party, bent upon nothing but pleasure, 
if composed of people of fair intelligence, and moderate 
culture, will brighten you up for a month, and give 
you new ideas to think over. And, moreover, you learn 
to extend your sympathies beyond your own fireside. 
With no less love for the home circle your heart 
expands, and you enter into the joys and sorrows of 
your friends, and become more generous, tender, and 
helpful. 

When your own children, or those in whom you take 
an interest, grow up, and enter into this society, you 
will feel assured that you have not wasted your time, 
whatever doubts may, until then, have lingered in your 
minds. How much better will it be to introduce them 
into a society that you helped to form yourself, and 
which you know to be good, than to have them going 
about with associates of whom you know little or noth- 
ing, because you have chosen to lead a secluded life. 
And then, too, you will be with them, and you and the 
young people enjoy society together, with the same in- 
terests, the same friends, and, in some degree, the same 
amusements. Men and women of fifty do not gene- 
rally care for dancing, skating, and a few of the very 
active amusements of the young ; but there are a great 
many in which they would take pleasure as long as they 
were able to go about at all, if pubhc opinion would only 
sanction them. And can you not help to form public 
opinion ? 

The expense of dressing sufficiently well for society 
is another excuse given for the selfish seclusion in 
which so many families live. This excuse has been ad- 
vanced by eue7'y family in particular neighborhoods. 



130 THE HOME. 

Now, it would seem that where all are equally badly 
off, according to their own showing, they might visit 
each other freely without fear of " odious comparisons." 
Nobody need be ashamed of a calico dress in a party 
where all dress in calico. At such a gathering the 
wearer of a silk dress would feel abashed. A man can 
enjoy himself quite as much in a homespun suit as in 
broadcloth, provided all his companions wear home- 
spun. And there are very few families in this land who 
have not better things in their wardrobes than calicoes 
and homespun. It is the fashion now everywhere to 
exaggerate the importance of dress. And yet we saw, 
not long ago, at a party, a bevy of girls dressed pre- 
cisely alike in clear white Swiss muslin dresses, made 
tastefully and simply (costing, when finished, ten dol- 
lars apiece) with no ornament save a cluster of green 
leaves where the dress was fastened at the throat, and 
with their own hair arranged in graceful styles, with 
not even a flower to help dress it. How pretty they 
all looked, and how they did enjoy themselves ! It is 
true that such a very simple toilette as this needs the 
beauty and freshness of youth to lend it grace, and 
older ladies must give a little more thought and labor 
to their adorning, but there is no need that it should 
be costly, nor must their dresses be loaded with a vast 
amount of trimming, nor need they be ashamed of 
wearing the same dress many times, if it is tasteful and 
becoming. Introduce into a pleasant circle of friends 
a spirit of display in dress, or style of entertaining, 
and it will dissolve like the dew. 

[The conditions on which the small " Sociables " 
have, of late years, been formed in cities and towns — 
I. e. placing limitations on dress and entertainments — 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 131 

might, we should think, be extended to include a large 
circle of acquaintances who wished to enjoy society on 
limited means.] 

We will suppose that you, young housekeepers, have 
builded or rented your house, furnished it, and duly 
ordered all things in it to the best of your ability ; and 
now, fully impressed with the ideas just expressed, are 
looking about to see what materials you have to help 
you in • forming a pleasant society. If you are living 
near your old home, even if your parents had no so- 
ciety, and you have picked up your associates in the hap- 
hazard way so common among our young people, there 
are probably among them some two or three congenial 
spirits that you will like to entertain as friends, and 
with these for a nucleus, your society will soon be 
formed, for other congenial spirits will naturally gravi- 
tate towards it. For, in all these things, it is only the 
beginning that is troublesome. In a neighborhood that 
is new to you, you will have a struggle, and it will take 
a much longer time ; for you not only have to find out 
what are your neighbors' capabilities and tastes, but to 
work your way into their favor. The best plan will be 
to try to impress with your views some lady who is a 
power in the little community, and if you succeed in 
setting her to work, you may consider your purpose ac- 
complished. 

The next thing will be for the leaders in the enter- 
prise (there are sure to be a few who will be looked up 
to as leaders, without any desire on their part for the 
distinction) to devise amusements and occupations. 
For a round of visits to each other's houses, with no- 
thing but desultory chat and needlework for the women, 
and talk of politics and crops for the men, will soon be- 



132 THE HOME. 

come a weariness. The most delightful social meetings 
are those which have some object. 

In other countries it seems easy to supply these ob- 
jects, or rather, the people take naturally to certain 
amusements. In most of them dancing is a diversion 
that never palls, and old and young take part in it ; the 
men have games of strength and skill which everybody 
goes to see ; there are gardens in which they delight to 
assemble, and hold a sort of perpetual pic-nic ; there 
are musical gatherings at market places, village greens, 
and private houses ; there are flower shows, etc. 

But Americans do not patronize public gardens, or 
public out-door gatherings of any kind ; dancing is 
certainly not a national pastime ; and, although nearly 
all American girls are taught the piano, we are not a 
musical people. Our amusements must be confined to 
private circles, and, in general, those are best liked that 
require some little intelligence and skill. 

If you have a hobby on which you expect your so- 
ciety to ride, you will be defeated at once. You cannot 
expect to get together all the ladies and gentlemen of a 
neighborhood, old and young, wise and simple, and 
form them into a literary club, or an art circle, or a mu- 
sical society, or a scientific association, or a merry-go- 
round of dancing and fun. Here and there, possibly, 
will be found an individual of high culture, or one who 
has a decided taste for something ; but respectability, 
ordinary education, and good manners are all that you 
can expect from the majority. If the society is properly 
organized, a higher grade of culture will follow in time. 
But you will find on further acquaintance that each one 
of these mediocre people has a gift for doing some one 
thing very well. These gifts society will utilize. 



KEEPIISG THE HOUSE. 133 

You have quite a variety of amusements and occu- 
pations from which to make a selection that will be best 
adapted to the tastes of your acquaintances. For coun- 
try society in the summer there are lawn parties, cro- 
quet parties, berrying, botanizing, pic-nics, etc. In 
the cities the society will probably be broken up in the 
sc^mmer, on account of numerous absentees, but those 
who remain in town can organize private excursions 
that will be enjoyable and healthful. In the winter, for 
both city and country, there are tableaux, charades, 
ordinary parties, reading clubs, housekeepers' clubs ; 
and many others will suggests themselves. If you live 
in the country, try, if possible, to have a library. A 
small yearly subscription from a number of persons 
will, in a few years, lay the foundation of a good li- 
brary. 

It may turn out at last that society will become too 
attractive to you, and instead of making an effort to 
go out you will have to make an effort to stay at home. 
This will be a most deplorable state of things, and, as 
soon as you detect the first symptoms indicating that 
society is laying too strong a hold on you, withdraw 
yourself from some of your diversions, and resolutely 
confine yourself to such only as will not encroach upon 
the time that should be given to your family. The 
home circle must be best and sweetest to you, and when 
we entreat you to cultivate society, we mean, of course, 
that it should be enjoyed in moderation. 

It will be seen from the above reoiarks that there 
are many ways of entertaining your friends besides 
feasting them. It is troublesome and costly to give 
dinner parties, and balls, and they do not yield as 
much enjoyment as the more informal gatherings. 



134: THE HOME. 

For lawn parties and summer evening entertainments, 
let the refreshments be simple. Sliced tongue, light 
biscuits or crackers, cakes, fruit, lemonade, or ice 
cream, jellies, custards, etc. Cooling drinks will bo 
generally preferred, but you will find that rich, hot cof- 
fee, served some little time after the other refreshment?.., 
will meet with a cordial welcome. These light things 
will be all that your guests will expect if they are in- 
formally served — i.e., " handed around ** or placed 
where they can help themselves. But, if you wish to 
set a table you should add some dishes a littl-e more 
substantial, such as pickled meats, potted game, cold 
chicken, chicken or lobster salad, etc. If you would 
like to have some hot dishes, and still avoid heavy 
meats, make fricandels, rissoles, or croquettes. These 
are dainty dishes, if well made, are inexpensive, and 
are always popular. After such an entertainment serve 
coffee, tea, and chocolate. 

For an informal winter evening party there is a still 
greater variety to choose from — light biscuit, rolls, cold 
turkey, canned fruits, apples, oranges, grapes, nuts, 
creams, coffee, etc. And, if you set a table, you can 
add to these oysters, raw and cooked, in some one of 
tlfe numerous styles, game, cold, or hot, etc., etc. 

Even when you give an entertainment in which 
eating is supposed to play the most important part, 
it is not necessary .to invite your friends to an elaborate 
dinner of a dozen courses. 

Some families have a way of inviting a few friends 
at a time to what they call "little suppers." And these 
charming affairs are remembered long after the stately 
dinner is forgotten. On such occasions the selection 
of the company is of the first importance. It will not 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 135 

do here to mix together the wise and the ignorant, the 
grave and the gay. The success of a " httle supper " 
depends chiefly upon the guests being exactly suited to 
each other. But here, of course, where people are 
especially invited to supper, that supper assumes greater 
importance than when they are invited to a musical 
party, tableau, etc., and will require study on the part 
of the housekeeper, skill in cooking, and taste in ar- 
ranging. And here, again, the dishes need not be 
costly. It is not rare dishes, or a great variety, that the 
"little supper" demands, but each one must be abso- 
lutely perfect, (what on ordinary occasions is a slight 
mistake here becomes a glaring fault;) the table must 
be handsomely set ; the guests properly placed, and the 
conversation never be allowed to flag. Heavy meats 
are not in good taste for a " little supper," or a variety 
of cakes and sweetmeats. The tea and coftee should 
be strong, the chocolate rich, the meats daintily pre- 
pared, mostly of French dishes, or American "made 
dishes," the gems, muffins, etc., should be delicate and 
crisp, the French rolls light, the glass and china should 
be sparkling, the table linen of fine white damask, and 
some pretty designs in flowers and fruit should grace 
the table. 

When you give a dinner party, it is best not to vary 
it much from your usual style of every-day serving. A 
greater quantity you must have, of course, and perhaps 
a gi-eater variety, and you may desire to put on a few 
extra fancy touches, but do not attempt anything mag- 
nificent in the v/ay of stjde unless you are accustomed 
to live in a stylish manner. If your usual dinner 
consists of but three courses, it will be well on this 
occasion to add a fourth, and follow the souj) with 



]36 THE HOME. 

fish, and the dessert of pies, pudding, creams, etc., 
should be followed by fruits, nuts, and raisins. And, 
beyond this, it is not necessary to turn out of your 
usual course. Your own servants and the extra ones 
you hire, know wdiat to do with such a dinner as this, 
you see that everything is going on properly, and your 
mind is at ease so that you can take the leading part 
in entertaining your guests. And if everything is pre- 
pared in the best way, and nicely served, your guests 
will be much better pleased than if you had attempted 
a grand entertainment. For knowing what your 
every-day style of living was, they would only laugh at 
this spasmodic attempt at grandeur. If you are am- 
bitious to give a grand dinner, where the plates are to 
be changed for a dozen courses, (half of them senseless 
courses, where the dishes would be much more attrac- 
tive if put on the table together,) and the table re- 
arranged for each one dextrously and quietly, where 
there is a scanty supply of ignorant servants, and the 
stable boy or grocer's boy, as the case may be, plays 
the part of head-waiter, and where you have attempted 
to make the same beautiful designs as the confectioner 
furnishes for such dinners, without any of his tools, to 
say nothing of his long apprenticeshijD at the business, 
you may depend upon it that you are not playing so 
grand a part as you imagine. 

There is a story told of a party of Indians, who were 
taken away from this country several years ago, and 
exhibited in various European cities. At last they ar- 
rived in Paris, and at their first exhibition they were 
surprised at the small degree of enthusiasm the audi- 
ence shov/ed, although very attentive to all that was 
done. Finally, near the close of the performance^ a 



KEEPING THE HOUSE. 137 

boy, unable to restrain himself any longer, cried out — 
" Look here ! Some of you fellows have sewed up your 
elbows with white thread ! Better dye it next time !" 
The performers stood aghast, and looked at each other. 
Too true ! The elbows of their false red skins having 
given way some time before, they had carelessly stitched 
them with white cotton, and their after exertions had 
stretched open the seams until there was a grinning 
row of ghastly white stitches. And it appeared that 
the audience had seen them from the first. This is a 
most astonishing instance of politeness in an audience, 
but then it was French ! American boys would have 
proclaimed the white thread the moment that the pre- 
tended Indians appeared. But this only helps to point 
the moral of the story. The habits of good society 
make your guests ajDparently blind, but you may be 
sure that they see the white stitches. 

Nothing on the table is exactly what it should be ; 
even the dishes that your cook ordinarily prepares ad- 
mirably are poor, because she has been made nervous 
by such extra demands upon her time and intelligence; 
the servants are awkward ; your family ill at ease, 
which throws a restraint over the guests ; and j^ou 
are in a most lamentable state of mind, every moment 
on the look-out for some catastrophe. 

If you are determined to give dinners so out of pro- 
portion to the ordinary style of your household, make 
up your mind to do it properly, and to pay/o)' it. Hire 
a fashionable caterer and give him carte blanche. He 
will supply cooks, waiters, and the best of every- 
thing. You can preside at your table with a mind at 
ease, a!nd a serene countenance, and your dinner will 
be a great success— if you think it worth the price. 



PART VI. 

HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 

THE SEWING MACHINE, 

This ought just as surely to have a place on your 
Hst of articles for housekeeping as the gridiron and 
wash-boiler. It should be ranked as one of the neces- 
sary expenses. The advertisements setting forth the 
various advantages of different manufactures are so 
widely scattered through the country that the oppor- 
tunity is given to all to read, and judge for themselves 
of their comparative merits. We pronounce no opinion 
in the case except this, that, while some are excellent, 
they are all good, and that the very poorest, whichever 
that may be, is far better than none. They can be ob- 
tained now at almost any price, between ten dollars and 
a hundred. Whatever is beyond this is for costly wood, 
and fancy styles. 

It is a sinful waste of time to spend three days in 
making a garment that can be made in one by the help 
of the machine ; and, now that machines are so cheaj), 
there is no excuse for spending so many precious hours 
on groups of tucks, and yards of hemming, felhng, 
fititching, oording, etc., etc. With a little care and 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 139 

good management any family can save ten dollars for 
such a purpose. Those who have been accustomed to 
having all their time filled up with an everlasting stitch, 
stitch, will be very much surprised at first to find that 
they actually get through their work sometimes, and 
absolutely have no sewmg to do ! Perhaps they will 
not be altogether easy under this new state of things, 
and imagine that they are growing lazy, but they will 
soon find that this world contains work to be done that 
is at least as important as sewing, and some of it more 
improving, and very much of it more healthful. 

A MEDICINE CHEST. 

This is also necessary. As the warm weather ap- 
proaches, you should see that it is provided with the 
proper medicines for summer complaints, and in win- 
ter with those best for colds, and their incidental ail- 
ments. 

Precisely what these shall be it is not the province of 
this book to say. Each family has its own favorite 
school of medicine. But do not select the contents of 
your chest from advertisements of quack nostrums that 
have worked marvellous cures. Consult your physician 
as to the medicines that will be useful on emergencies, 
for, of course, it is only for these and for slight com- 
plaints, easily understood, that your chest is to pro- 
vide. Many a hfe has been preserved by having at 
hand, and using promptly, the proper means and medi- 
cines for giving relief until the doctor comes, and many 
a Hmb has been saved by having lint, bandages, etc., 
just where one could at once lay hpnds upon them. A 
physician cannot always be procured at a few minutes' 
notice, and, in country places, it is sometimes hours be- 



140 THE HOME. 

fore he arrives. Therefore have the medicine chest al- 
ways well provided, and do not keep the contents of 
any vial after you have reason to think there is a possi- 
bility of its being stale or worthless. Throw it out at 
once, and replenish, and when you do this, instead of 
grumbling at the waste of the money you paid for it, 
be devoutly thankful that you have the opportunity of 
thus disposing of it. Besides the physic, every medi- 
cine chest should contain some of the mustard plasters 
that are now sold ready prepared ; some good salve ; 
syringes ; soft flannels for rubbing ; a roll of old hnen 
for bandages, and hnt. 

A CEDAR BOX. 

A desirable article to add to the regular furnishing is 
a cedar box, in which to lay all the woolen household 
goods and the woolen garments during the summer. 
You can then feel secure that your blankets, furs, etc., 
will not be visited by moths. Country housekeepers 
can have these made at quite a low cost. A wardrobe 
lined with cedar, and with a division containing deep 
drawers of that wood, is of equal efficacy and much 
greater convenience, but will be rather a costly affair. 

STORE ROOM. 

Every house should have a store room, built for that 
purpose, convenient to the kitchen and dining-room. 
It should be about nine feet square, with a high ceiling, 
and thick walls. A northern exposure is best when 
practicable. But, as half the houses are built without 
the least reference to the storing of provisions, a 
room must generally be improvised for the purpose. It 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 141 

may be that you will find some closet or tiny room that 
answers all the requirements, but the probability is that 
there will be nothing of the kind ; and then you will 
very hkely be obhged to have two — a cool and a dry 
one. Make a closet in one corner of the cellar, by hav- 
ing two sides of a partition built, and a door cut in one 
side, and the necessary number of shelves put up. 
Here you can keep those articles- that require to be in a 
cool place, and that dampness will not injure ; and 
some up-stairs closet, that is not too close and hot, must 
be set apart for those articles that require a very dry 
place. It is a good plan to have a store-room book, 
containing a full list of all your possessions, that you 
may know what has been used, and what is still on 
hand, and on what particular shelf of what particular 
closet is the precise jug, jar, or box which you want at 
that precise moment. The inventory will have to be 
taken every year, in the early part of the fall, after 
the store of canned fruits, preserves, pickles, etc., is 
laid in. 

A ROOM FOR THE SICK. 

When treating of bedrooms, some suggestions were 
thrown out in regard to furnishing a room for a chronic 
invalid for whom, for a great part of the year, perhaps 
one apartment serves for parlor, dining-room, and bed- 
room. But a room for the sick is a different affair, al- 
though many rules that will apply to the one will also 
serve for the other. The room referred to under our 
heading, is for a temporary illness, which threatens 
to be somewhat violent in character. It is not meant 
that any one room of the house should be set apart and 
furnished with a special view to using it for a hospitaL 



142 THE HOME. 

But when a member of a family is taken ill, the ques- 
tion is often asked anxiously : ** What is the best room 
for him ?" and also : " What can we do to make him 
most comfortable ?" 

In providing for this exigency two things are to be 
considered — the comfort of the patient ; and the con- 
venience of nursing him. A first floor room is the most 
desirable for convenience, and is generally cooler for 
summer use, but it is not as likely to be dry and airy as 
an ujDper apartment. [For a room may be cool and 
not airy.] And it has the great disadvantage that it 
is impossible to entirely shut out noises. It is usually 
best, then, to select a bedroom on the second floor, the 
hghtest and airiest, either for winter or summer use. If 
there is one with an open fire-place, by all means give 
that the preference. If there is no fire-place have a 
small stove put up, for even in summer there are 
" wet spells " in which dampness will penetrate every 
nook and crevice, and the only way to counteract its 
bad effects is to make a wood fire for a little while. 
Half an hour a day is often sufficient. Wood is best 
to burn in winter also, as gases will sometimes arise 
from coal, notwithstanding all our care. A wood fire 
can also be attended to with less noise. We have 
lately seen an excellent suggestion in regard to replen- 
ishing a coal fire in a sick-room. It is to keep on hand 
a number of small paper bags filled with lumps of 
coal, and lay them on the fire as wanted. These bags 
can be filled down stairs, and a scuttleful of them 
brought up instead of the loose coal. 

Gas is the most desirable light for a sick-room, and 
where there is no gas, use good, clear lard oil, or can- 
dles of paraffine, or sperm. It is best to have one of 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 143 

these ready to be lighted even where gas or a lamp is 
used, as the former may suddenly fail, and the latter 
become clogged or smoky. Never use kerosene oil in a 
sick-room. Next to the gas a* taper is best when a 
dim light is required. Get those made with a wax base 
about two inches in diameter, and an inch in height, 
from which rises a little pyramid of wax with a wick 
in the centre. One of these will burn ten hours. No 
improvised tapers can compare with these, and it would 
be a good idea to keep some of them in the medicine 
chest that they may be ready when wanted. But, if 
these are not at hand, cut a newspaper into small 
square pieces, and twist them around the finger into a 
sugar-loaf shape. Immerse the base in a saucer half 
filled with melted lard, leaving the apex about an inch 
above the surface. It is said that sycamore balls make 
very good tapers when saturated with melted lard. 

It is best not to have a carpet on the floor of a sick- 
room, but this is a rule that admits of many exceptions. 

Not so, however, in regard to woolen hangings, 
which are inadmissible in a sick-room ; and woolen 
upholstery of all kinds is to be avoided. If the cur- 
tains are of lace or thin muslin they may remain, 
but if of any heavy material they should be removed. 

The shades at the windows wiU generally be found 
sufficient for excluding the light in connection with 
the shutters (either outside or inside.) But if it is 
desirable to have the room quite dark at times, make a 
plain curtain of some dark cotton stuff — one that will 
slip noiselessly on a string, or that can be taken down 
in a moment. 

Feather beds are held by most persons at this present 
day to be very unhealthful contrivances, although they 



144 THE HOME. 

still have some quite able champions who argue to the 
contrary. Whatever they may be to the healthy, there 
can scarcely be two opinions in regard to their being 
very bad for the sick. Even their advocates say that 
they should be well beaten and thoroughly aired every 
day, and this in a sick-room is clearly impossible. And 
it is almost impossible to nurse a sick person on a fea- 
ther bed. A hair mattress is not as absorbent as 
feathers, has no odor of its own, and is manageable 
with little effort. It should be laid on springs, and will 
probably require another mattress under it. Hair is 
best for this, but wool or even cotton will do if new, or 
nearly so. 

Have the bedstead out from the wall, and as near 
the centre of the room as convenient, and in placing 
the bedstead due attention must be given to the 
draughts in the room. The most desirable spot is 
where there is the most air with the least draught, and 
it should be so placed that the light will not shine in 
the patient's eyes. Let there be no furniture in the 
room that is not absolutely necessary. 

Keep the medicines on a little table behind the bed 
head, where they will be convenient, and yet out of 
sight of the patient. 

The nurse must have a time-piece, but a loud ticking 
clock is often a great annoyance to a sick person. 

These directions apply to the room of a very sick 
person, where only his immediate comfort and the 
things that tend to his restoration are considered. As 
he convalesces the articles of furniture can gradually 
be restored to their places, the dingy window-hanging 
replaced by something lighter and brighter, and all 
sorts of pretty things may be gathered into the room. 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 145 



SECOND-HAND FURNITURE. 

Young housekeepers hold second-hand furniture iu 
too great contempt, while older houskeepers, who have 
learned the value of money, are apt to hold it in too 
great respect. A great deal of money is spent in the 
aggregate by " managing " housekeepers who buy up 
unsightly, old-fashioned, rickety furniture " for a trifle " 
for each article. Half of it is good for nothing but fire- 
wood, and what remains is botched up by some cabinet- 
maker and placed about the house to disfigure it by in- 
herent ugliness. Others who are on the lookout for 
something better than this spend hours at auction rooms 
for days and days until at last they secure one or two 
things and consider they have done well if they have 
saved a few dollars thereby. Ci (^nriy to them time is 
not money. And it very often happens that these 
things, that are such wonderful bargains, turn out to be 
dearer than the brand-new ones at the furniture-dealers, 
or *' there is a screw loose somewhere." On the other 
hand, where second-hand furniture has been well kept 
and looks fresh, and where the proper reduction is 
made in the price, and where you are sure it is good, it 
is often of great advantage to buy it instead of the new, 
because for the same price you can not only get a 
handsome article, but a better made one. 

If you are purchasing from a fidend, you may buy 
without fear what you choose ; but there are certain ar- 
ticles that should never be bought at second-hand at 
an auction, or from a regular dealer — bedding, bed- 
steads, carpets, oil-cloths, and upholstered furniture. 

In connection with this subject it may be mentioned 



146 THE HOME. 

that many writers lay down as an excellent rule that 
one must never buy what are called 

BARGAINS. 

But this is requiring too much of human nature ; 
and besides it is a very good thing to get a good bar- 
gain provided you have come by it honestly, and in 
good faith, and not by overreaching, or fraud, or taking 
an unfair advantage of the unfortunate. A better 
rule would be never to buy any article merely because it 
is a bargain. 

HOW TO MAKE CARPETS. 

The fashion of binding carpets is obsolete. It has 
been found that they wear much better by being simply 
turned in and tacked down. Lay two breadths on the 
floor, and match the figures accurately ; then with a 
carpet needle and thread tack the breadths together in 
several places, generally at points and intersections of 
figures, by taking a stitch or two, and then tying the 
ends of the thread into a knot. This must be done se- 
curely, so there is no danger that the figures will slip 
out of place when you turn the carpet over to sew it. 
If, in tacking this way, you find that one edge is 
fuller than the other, so that it will necessarily " pucker" 
when sewed, do not be alarmed, for it will all come 
right. Your first business is to match the figures at 
all hazards. Having done this you can cut the two 
breadths apart. Then lay down the third breadth, 
match the figures, and tack in the same manner ; and 
so on, until all the breadths are tacked and cut. In 
laying down the breadths you must allow a little at 
each end for turning in. Now turn your carpet on the 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 147 

wrong side, and sew the breadths together, with an 
over-seam, or by putting the needle through one edge 
and bringing it back through the other. 

The stitches should not be taken through the whole 
thickness, unly the under half. In this way the stitches 
can lie closely, and the edges be securely fastened to- 
gether, without danger of drawing open when laid down, 
and yet the seam will not be heavy, nor the thread show 
on the right side. 

When a carpet is tacked dow^n, it should be stretched 
rather tightly, or it will rub up in folds and wrinkles, 
after being walked over for a few days. The figures 
will be your best guide in this, for they must, of course, 
run in straight lines, and not be drawn out of shaj)e. 

After the carpet is tacked down, you will find, in most 
cases, that the puckers in the seams have disappeared, 
but if they have not, they generally will in a few days ; 
if, however, they are very obstinate, wet them with 
clean cold water, and, when the carpet dries, you will 
find it is smooth. 

HOW TO DO UP LACE OR MUSLIN CURTAES'S. 

Before the curtains are put in the wash, tack all 
around them narrow strips of white cotton cloth, an 
inch or two wide. Dissolve a little spda in milk-warm 
^ater, and put in the curtains. Let them remain for 
half an hour, stirring and pressing them occasionally. 
Wring them very carefully — rather squeezing than 
wringing, whenever this process is to be performed. 
Place them in cold water for an hour. Then wash them 
with soap and warm water (but not hot). Wash again 
in clean water, rather hotter than the last. Rinse them 



148^^ THE HOME. 

in bluing water (only slightly blue, unless the curtains 
are very yellow). Wring carefully in clean towels. 
They are now ready for starching. Make the starch 
according to the usual process, but be sure to have it 
clear, and good, and thin, for muslin, and very thin for 
lace. Thick starch is utterly destructive to the fine, 
soft appearance of the lace. Stir a few times round in 
the starch, while boiling, a wax or sperm candle, or put 
into it a small piece of white wax. If the latter is used, 
it should be melted and poured in. When the starch 
is ready, pour half of it into one pan, and half into 
another. Dip the curtains in one ; wring them out in 
towels ; then dip into the second, and wring again. On 
the floor of an unoccupied room sj)read a couple of 
sheets, one under the other, for each curtain, or rather, 
half of a curtain. A large sheet folded may be wide 
enough. Shake the curtain, with assistance from some 
one, and lay it down smoothly, the edges of the cotton 
cloth to the edges of the sheet. Pin down the top and 
back. The other sides will then come perfectly straight 
without pinning. Leave them to dry ; and then re- 
move the strips of cloth, and hang the curtains to the 
windows at once. They should not be folded. If you 
should desire to put them away for a while, roll them 
lightly in a loose, soft roll, and wrap in blue paper, or 
cotton, the former preferable ; but, in both instances, 
assure yourself that the blue dye does not rub off ; and 
lay them where no weight will press against them. 

MATTING. 

Matting should never be washed with anything but 
salt and water — a pint of salt to half a pailful of soft 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 149 

water, moderate^ warm. Dry quickly with a soft cloth. 
Twice during the season will probably be sufficient 
washing for a bedroom, but a room much used will re- 
quire it somewhat oftener. 

OrL-CLOTH 

Is ruined by the application of lye soap, as the lye eats 
the cloth, and, after being washed, it should be wiped 
perfectly dry, or the dampness will soon rot it. If laid 
down where the sun will shine on it much, it will be apt 
to stick fast to the floor, unless paper is laid under it 

OILED FURNITURE. 

When oiled walnut begins to grow dingy, it can be 
made to look as fresh as new by re-oiling. Linseed, or 
even olive oil can be used, but pure, good kerosene oil 
is much the best. Rub it well in with a soft woolen 
rag, and polish with clean, dry flanneL 

SILVER. 

Silver should never be allowed to grow dingy, and 
need not, if properly washed after every meal. Wash 
in very hot soft water, with hard soap. Wipe hard and 
quickly, on a clean towel, and polish with dry flannel. 
If discolored with egg, mustard, etc., rub out the stain 
with a small, stiff brush, and silver soap, or whatever 
you use for cleaning silver ; then wash off in hot water, 
wipe, and polish. Use soft towels. This is for the 
articles in common use. Once a week have all the 
silver cleaned. If you wish to place silver away for 



150 THE HOME. 

any length of time, wrap each article in blue paper, and 
it will keep a good color. 

GILT FRAMES. 

Boil three or four onions in a pint of water, then 
with a clean paint brush wash over your frames, and 
the flies will not alight on them. No injury will result 
to the frames. This renders unnecessary the unsightly 
drapings of gauze. 

BEDS 

Should be carefully examined very frequently, especially 
during the summer months, by the housekeeper, as ser- 
vants neglect this duty altogether, or perform it care- 
lessly. It is difficult to get rid of bed-bugs when they 
have once fairly established themselves in a house. 
Even new houses are sometimes infested by them, as 
there are certain kinds of wood in which they make 
their home, and thus their nests are built into the 
house. But they can be driven entirely off the field, if 
the war is only carried on briskly enough, and persisted 
in for a long time. When you think the last foe has 
yielded, and you have rested for a while on your laurels, 
you will be surprised some day to find one skirmishing 
on the sheet, or perhaps on your best shawl, and on in- 
vestigation you will discover that he is only the ad- 
vanced guard of a whole regiment lying in ambush in 
some secure retreat. Even if you do not see one for 
the remainder of that summer, you have no security 
that they will not appear the next spring in apparently 
undiminished force. But do not give way to despair ; 
keep fighting, and you will be victorious at last. When 
one fails to make its appearance in a house for the whole 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 151 

of a summer, you may congratulate yourself that the 
foe is completely routed. Here, again, there is no ab- 
solute security. You have certainly destroyed all the 
native inhabitants, but you do not know what day there 
may come a foreign importation. So you must keep a 
good lookout. Eternal vigilance is certainly the price 
of fi-eedom from bed-bugs. 

Hot steam is the best thing for driving these crea- 
tures from the walls of houses. A small stean^ing ap- 
paratus can be bought for an inconsiderable sum, or 
with a little ingenuity one can be fitted up at the cost 
of a dollar or so. Use it freely, and scald out every 
corner and crevice, from garret to cellar, quite fre- 
quently, until you feel sure that they are entirely dis- 
lodged ; and after that, once or twice a year will be 
sufficient. 

The persistent use of scalding water on bedsteads, 
pouring it on the slats, and springs, and joinings, (the 
bedstead must be often taken apart for this purpose,) 
will prove effectual in time, if no other means are used. 
• But there are various substances employed to hasten the 
desired result. Corrosive sublimate — an ounce of it to 
a half pint of alcohol — is an old remedy, and effectual. 
So is quicksilver, beaten up with the whites of eggs. 
But both of these are deadly poisons, and housekeepers 
are afraid to use them. Persons very sensitive to poi- 
sons have been made sick by sleeping on bedsteads 
where corrosive sublimate had been recently applied. 
Some use hartshorn, but this injures paint and varnish. 
Some use nothing but salt and water, and others assert 
that kerosene oil is a sovereign remedy. 

There are various powders sold that are effectual as 
bug destroyers, but housekeepers usually find them 



152 THE HOME. 

very unreliable ; one package will be all that it claims 
to be, and another of the same kind of powder, bought 
at the same place, will be good for nothing. Some- 
times this is because the powder has been adulterated, 
but generally because it has become stale. And these 
are, also, often very poisonous. One of the most popu- 
lar of these, however, the Persian Insect Powder, is 
perfectly harmless to human beings, and is a deadly 
poison to all insects that infest houses. It is imported 
into this country from the East, and is prepared from a 
flower of the same genus as our Feverfew. But a great 
deal of this that is' sold is good for nothing, also. If you 
can buy it in the original packages in which it was im- 
ported, you may feel pretty sure that it is good. 

Mattress covers should be washed every month or 
two, but so arrange it that all will not be in the wash at 
the same time. 

Sheets must be thoroughly aired before putting away, 
must be kept in a perfectly dry place, and should not be 
put upon the bed any length of time before they are to 
be used. 

When a guest has left, and a bedroom is to be unoc- 
cupied for a time, fold up the bed-spread and blankets, 
and lay them carefully away ; and, having sent the 
sheets, bolster, and pillow cases to the wash, put on the 
pillows slips made of calico, and spread over mattress 
and bolster a covering made of the same. Thus every- 
thing will be kept clean until wanted again. 

Mattresses should be exposed to the air every day, 
and have a good airing once a week ; and sometimes 
should be put out for a whole day in the sun and wind. 
In the case of invalids, where this cannot well be done, 
hair mattresses can be used without it longer than any 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 153 

other. But here, if there are two beds, one can be 
spared sometimes for a good airing. 

FEATHER BEDS. 

These ought to be cleaned every spring. There f^rd 
several ways of doing this, but the following is recom- 
mended, as it cleans both tick and feathers : Contrive, 
if possible, some sort of a platform, that you can set up 
in the yard, on which to lay your beds for cleaning or 
airing. Failing this, use a back porch. Wash the plat- 
form clean, and lay on it the feather bed, and let it re- 
main there during the night in the dew. In the morn- 
ing, before the dew is off, take a pail of clean, cold, soft 
water, and, with a new whisk broom, wet and rub the 
upper side of the bed for some time. Let it lie in the 
sun until it is dry, which will not be for several hours. 
Turn it over and treat the other side in the same way, 
and continue the process until the white stripes, in the 
ticking look as clean as new. This treatment of the 
feathers makes them " lively." 

If there is any indication of rain, the bed must be 
taken into the house. And, if you are afraid to leave 
the bed out at night, because of thieves, the dew must 
be dispensed with in the treatment. 

FEATHER PILLOWS. 

The best way to wash these is to put them out in a 
good hard rain for several hours ; and then wring them 
out, and dry quickly, that they may not get musty. 



It may not be generally known that bright-oolored 



164 THE HOME. 

vases, and those ornamented with flowers, do not show 
off real flowers to the best advantage. White or brown 
are best for this purpose. 

TTRES. 

Firf>s should be kindled at least once a week in every 
room thfmugh. fall and winter, to prevent dampness. 

"^•^ DISINFECTANTS. 

These should ne\'^er be left more than a week un- 
changed, as they throw ' out the poisons they gather. 

THE STOVE URjnV 

Keep the stove urn nearly filled with water, as long 
as the fire is kept up in the stove. Put a little char- 
coal also in the urn, and this ought to be changed every 
week. 

WALL PAPERS. 

Old paper should be removed from the walls before 
the new is put on. It can easily be done by wetting it 
with warm water. After it is all off, have the plaster 
wiped over with carbolic acid, to purify it. The dis- 
agreeable odor of the acid will disappear almost imme- 
diately, and you can then feel sure there is nothing in- 
fectious lurking in your walls. Use corn-starch paste 
for putting on the new paper, as it does not turn sour, 
or stain the paper. 

COVERING FOR A STOVE. 

Even the prettiest stove is not in itself a very beauti- 
ful object. In the cold weather when there is a fire 



HOUSEHOLD MISCELLANIES. 155 

burning in it all the time and it gives a pleasant sen- 
sation of warmth to the occupants of the room, they for- 
give its ugliness, and regard it with very friendly feelings ; 
but in summer it stands out in cold, cheerless deformity. 
And yet if there are no open fire-places, the stove 
£jhould be left standing in, at least, one room all sum- 
mer to be in readiness for the cold " north-easters " 
when the whole house seems pervaded with dampness, 
which a little fire will soon dissipate. In the fall, too, 
the stove ought to be put up in the sitting-room very 
early, and the fuel laid in it all ready for lighting 
whenever there is a chilly evening. To conceal the 
stove, when not in use, you can make a covering for it 
somewhat in the following style : 

Have a light pine frame made, consisting of a square 
or oval top, on which are fitted three or four legs a 
httle higher than the stove. Drape this frame with 
any pretty material that is sufficiently thick to conceal 
the stove. The under drapery must be tacked on 
quite full, and should fall to the floor ; the upper must 
be still fuller to drape gracefully. Arrange the festoons 
in any style you fancy, only take care that some of 
them shall fall nearly to the bottom of the under dra- 
pery, or else your stand will look " lanky." Trim with 
woolen or cotton cord, according to material used, and 
hang tassels wherever they will be effective. 

Before the drapery is put on, the top of the stand 
should be rubbed perfectly smooth, and then stained 
with black walnut stain. 

This frame can be removed easily whenever a fire is 
needed. A vase of flowers or grasses can stand on the 
top. 



156 THE HOME. 



A GRATE FOR WOOD FIRES. 

Any country blacksmith can make a grate as de- 
scribed below, and it will be found of the greatest ad- 
vantage where wood fires are used. 

A broad strong iron bar is secured from side to side 
of the fire-place, and directly in front, about six inches 
above the hearth. From this bar others of less dia- 
meter, and about four or five inches apart, extend at 
right angles to the back of the fire-place, where they 
are fastened in the wall, or to a transverse bar, or se- 
cured properly upon bricks. No andirons are needed 
with a grate of this kind ; the wood burns well ; and 
the ashes fall down, and are easily removed. 

If a second bar is fixed a few inches above the large 
front bar, the danger of the wood rolling forward, and 
>ut of the fire-place will be averted. 



PART VII, 

OENAMENTAL WOEE. 

Useful articles of furniture can sometimes be made 
of apparently unpromising materials — sofas out of old 
chairs, arm-chairs out of barrels, lounges of packing- 
boxes, by those who have some mechanical ingenuity. 
But these things have not only been so often described 
that it is not now necessary to treat of them, but we do 
not consider that they enter into the plan of a well- 
furnished house. As a rule they are make-shifts, and 
nothing more, and though the}^ will do very well in 
certain cases to fill up a vacancy in the house-furnish- 
ing, they are not to be relied upon as real, satisfactory 
furniture, such as we advise for a home. 

But with ornamental work the case is very dijBferent. 
"With natural good taste and some practice, very beau- 
tiful things can be made that will compare favorably 
with costly articles from the shops. And the work is 
in itself fascinating. Nearly every woman, young and 
old, has some particular hobby in the way of orna- 
mental work from making patchwork quilts to em- 
broidering altar cloths. Very many men, too, have a 
passion this way, but while the ladies instinctively take 



158 THE HOME. 

to needle and thread, the gentlemen turn to knives 
and saws ; and while the former are moulding wax, 
and pressing flowers, the latter apply themselves to 
planes and turning-lathes, and to the moulding of 
wood. 

Where both male and female members of a family 
have these tastes a house is likely to be well filled with 
ornaments, and, if these are tastefully and artistically 
made, and put into their proper places, (a very im- 
portant part of the process,) this is one of the surest 
means of converting a mere dwelhng into a pleasant- 
looking home. 

It would be impossible, except in a work especially 
for this purpose, to give directions for making the nu- 
merous articles of household adornment ; and, where 
there is so much that is attractive, it is difficult to 
select those that are most desirable, for what one might 
fancy, another might not. 

In these directions, therefore, we shall only give some 
general ideas, and a few samples, and these not with a 
view that they shall be exactly copied, but taken as they 
are meant — as suggestions — materials with which to 
work out far more beautiful results. 

These simple hints, your own good taste, and the 
numerous patterns and designs that you see in your 
friends' houses, or find floating about in magazines and 
papers, will be sufficient to furnish you employment for 
many a leisure hour, and will help you to ornament 
youi" home at a small expense. 

WOOD CARVING. 

We begin with this, because it is the most beautiful 
of fancy household work, and because the most useful 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 159 

ornamental articles are made of wood. For, because a 
thing is ornamental, it does not follow that it is not 
also useful ; and vice versa. 

All boys (American boys, at least) manifest a decided 
taste for whittling, often greatly to the annoyance of 
their elders. As they grow into manhood they generally 
leave off whittling, with other childish things, (foreign 
writers to the contrary, notwithstanding.) The trait is 
only mentioned here to show that it is born in them 
as much as nursing dolls is in girls ; and to account 
for the fact that so many men have a natural gift for 
cutting and carving wood. It is the whittling grown 
into an art with the natural growth of the mind. Fur- 
nish such men with a pen-knife, and a few old cigar- 
boxes, and they will return you prettily carved brack- 
ets, picture-frames, etc. Very few women turn thus 
instinctively to such work, but if their attention is di- 
rected into this channel after some practice and with 
proper tools, (for with a pen-knife i\iey would be power- 
less) the majority make very respectable wood carvers, 
and some become quite accomplished and skillful ar- 
tists. And as women, as a rule, have more leisure than 
men, or perhaps we should say that the most of their 
leisure is passed within the home, it usually happens 
that the ornamental work falls largely into their hands. 

The actual work of wood-carving is purely mechani- 
cal, and only requires care and nicety in cutting, and a 
very moderate supply of patience. It is in designing 
the patterns and in putting the pieces of carved 
wood together that your genius and taste are called 
into use. If you do not possess the former — for 
this particular thing — perhaps you have some friend 
who can draw designs for you ; and, if not, you can 



160 THE HOME. 

buy them in infinite variety. Even in the matter 
of putting together you can obtain directions so expHcit 
that you will have to take great pains to go wrong ; 
but it is best to trust to your taste, and cultivate it by 
using it. For this is one useful purpose of all work 
that is known as " fancy. " 

First, in regard to the wood. This can be generally 
obtained from any cabinet-maker or carpenter. The 
former will probably have the greatest variety and the 
finest qualities. In country places you may not be able 
to obtain the foreign woods, but you can get Walnut, 
Oak, Chestnut, Butternut, Appletree, Cedar, Holly, and 
others. It will be well at first for you to consult with 
the man from whom you purchase in regard to the 
properties of the different woods, some being hard, and 
others soft, some soiling very easily with use, and 
others being difficult to polish, or varnish ; but you will 
soon learn these things yourself. Wood varies in 
price, but none of the American woods are expensive. 
The most beautiful — and most costly — of the foreign 
woods are satinwood, rosewood, and ebony. But the 
latter being very effective, a little of it may be made to 
go a great way by using it for tiny centre-pieces, nar- 
row mouldings, etc. Satinwood is also effective, but 
easily soiled, and is employed for dainty finishings of 
articles that are to be little used. 

. With some pieces of wood, pretty patterns, and in- 
expensive tools you can cut very respectable Easels, 
Brackets, Picture-Frames, Letter-Holders, Book-Hacks, 
and numerous other small articles, and also ornaments 
for larger pieces of furniture. 

Sand -paper for rubbing the wood smooth, and 
cement for mending breakages, will also be necessary. 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 101 

The small saws are about twenty cents a dozen. 
They cannot be used without a frame in which to place 
them to steady them ; and you will have to practice 
some time before you will be satisfied with your work. 
But it can be done well with a little patience. Those 
who wish to go extensively into this business, or a 
club of persons who desire to work together would do 
well to purchase a jig-saw at twenty-five dollars. This 
not only saws wood but soft metals ; is mounted on a 
table like a sewing machine ; and is worked somewhat 
in the same way. With this, wood-carving is very easy 
and fascinating work ; and you may aspire to making 
really beautiful things. 

But as this work will probably be found of too elabo- 
rate a nature, except for those who have a great deal of 
leisure, we will presently suggest some simpler orna- 
mental work. 

But, first we will give a few directions that will help in 
making a variety of things, both useful and ornamental. 

BLACK WALNUT STAIN. 

We give this first because it is useful for staining al- 
most any article of furniture, and many ornaments ; 
besides floors, woodwork, etc. It will impart to com- 
mon wood, such as pine, the color and appearance of 
black walnut. 

One quarter of a pound of asphaltum, one half 
pound of common beeswax to one gallon of turpentine. 
If found too thin add beeswax ; if too light in color add 
asphaltum, though that must be done with caution, as a 
very little will make a great difierence in the shade, as 
the wood should not be black, but a rich dark brown. 
Black is the color of the nut, and not the wood. 



162 THE HOME. 

Varnishing is not essential, as the wax gives a good 



TO POLISH WOOD. 

This is rather a tedious process, and the best 
plan is to give it to a regular polisher. But if you wish 
to undertake it yourself, you will need some shellac 
(dark or light, according to your wood) dissolved in 
alcohol ; some sweet oil, old linen, a little cotton wool, 
alcohol, and sand-paper. 

First rub with sand-paper until the wood is perfectly 
smooth and soft. 

Make a dabber of the cotton wool, cover it with the 
linen, and tie it firmly ; wet it Vv^ith the shellac and one 
drop of sweet oil, and rub the wood with a quick, even 
pressure, in circles, all over the surface. The only 
point is that the polish must be distributed evenly and 
quickly, and the same amount of rubbing given to every 
part. Continue the wetting and rubbing until the wood 
begins to reflect. The next day repeat the process, 
leaving intervals for absorption, till the reflection is as 
perfect as glass. When you are satisfied, take a fresh 
dabber, dampen it slightly with alcohol, and rub it softly 
and evenly over the wood ; it will bring out the polish, 
and fix it. You must put on polish enough before 
using the alcohol, as you cannot put on any afterwards. 

ASPHALTUM VARNISH. 

One half a pound of asphaltum and one pint of tur- 
pentine are used for making this varnish. They can 
be obtained at a paint-shop or carriage maker's. Put 
the asphaltum into a tin basin, and pour on some of 



ORNAMENl'AL WORK. 163 

the turpentine ; let it remain over night, and if well 
dissolved, try it with a brush on a piece of the same 
kind of wood or leather for which you are prej^aring it. 
When put on, it should be the color of black walnut. 
If it is too dark, add turpentine ; if too light, asphal- 
tum. The proper proportions can only be known by 
thus experimenting. Apply one or two coats, as may 
be necessary. 

TO MAZE LEATHEK LEAVES. 

Soak a piece of sheepskin in water until it is pHable. 
Cut a paper pattern of a leaf ; lay it on the leather, and 
cut. A carpenter's gouge is a good thing for the pur- 
pose. 

When dry and stiff, varnish with asphaltum. These 
are used for picture frames, and for ornamenting the 
edges of book shelves, the tops of book cases, brackets, 
and a variety of things. 

PLAIN LEATHEB ORNAMENTS. 

Get a piece of calfskin, and moisten it in warm 
water until soft and pliable. You can then cut it into 
scallops, diamonds, or any fashion you may admire. 
You can varnish with asphaltum, or leave it the natural 
color, which will deepen with age. 

ACORNS. 

These are often used for picture frames, baskets, etc., 
and also for mixing with leather leaves. The nuts and 
cups are glued together, and then glued to the wood. 
They are very pretty, but do not pay for the trouble of 
making, as they soon fall apart. 



164 THE HOME. 



PINE CONES. 

These are also much used for decorating, and are 
very handsome when varnished, but if glued on, are 
liable to fall off after some time. They can sometimes 
be tacked on. They should be mixed with other things, 
and, for most purposes, the small ones are the prettiest. 
The scales of the large cones are very pretty, each 
scale nailed on with small upholsterer's tacks, first 
boring the holes, so as not to split the scales. 

rOR ORNAMENTATION. 

Besides the above, there are many small things used 
for decorating, such as unroasted coffee beans, small 
black beans, kernels of rice ; and these, if well glued 
on, are not as apt to fall off as the heavier cones and 
acorns. These can be arranged in geometrical figures, 
rosettes, balls, and almost any way that fancy may sug- 
gest. Varnish with asphaltum, or black varnish, if you 
prefer it, which can be procured at any paint-shop. 
Cloves, allspice, and berries are strung on wires and 
twisted into scallops, double scallops, diamonds, etc, 
for edging and borderinga 

RUSTIC WORK. 

This is chiefly used for ornamenting large hanging 
baskets, aquariums, flower stands, and lawn tables, set- 
tees, and chairs ; and sometimes for smaller articles, 
such as boxes and picture frames. The materials are 
sticks of various woods, either flat or round, generally 
oiled and varnished, but sometimes with the bark left 
on. Twigs of various woods are freely employed ; these 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 165 

have the bark on, and may be straight or bent, according 
to effect desired ; birch, hazel, and silver poplar are 
among the prettiest Willow wands are easy to work 
with, and grape vines are not difficult to manage. These 
can be used with or without the bark. It is better to 
oil all wood from which the bark is stripped, but this 
is not absolutely necessary. Bits of rattan, strips of 
lath, pine cones, acorns, walnut shells sawed in pieces, 
walnut hulls, (split in two,) are all employed in rustic 
work ; and other materials will doubtless suggest them- 
selves to those who have any knowledge of wood-craft* 
Asphaltum varnish will be found best on most rustic 
work, but for variety, black varnish, or even paint may 
be used when it is in wood colors, and not apphed too 
thickly. 

BRACKETS. 

These may be constructed in simple forms of the 
plain wood, without any of the elaborate carving men- 
tioned on a former page. They will not, of course, be 
as handsome, but are quite as useful. A little shelf, 
with semi-circular front, and sides cut to fit into a cor- 
ner, may simply be fastened on the chair-rail. This is 
a corner shelf rather than a bracket, but is a convenient 
place for a vase of flowers or little bust. A small shelf, 
with straight back, and semi-circular front fitted to a 
standard, is the plainest style of the bracket proper. 
You will have to get a carpenter to cut the shelves and 
standards'. You can then convert the plain affair into 
something fanciful by decorating shelf and standard 
with any of the leather or wood ornaments previously 
described. 



166 THE HOME. 



LETTER RACKS. 

These and letter pockets may be cut out of leather, 
or wood. If of the former, you can do it yourself, hav- 
ing nrst cut a paper pattern. Ornament the leather 
with small leaves, arranged in various forms, and the 
wood with rosettes of small articles, and pine cone 
scales, etc. They are sometimes made of embroidered 
cloth or satin, but these only suit bedrooms and libra- 
ries. 

PICTURE FRAMES. 

The prettiest home-made frames, after those made 
from the carved wood, are of leather leaves. Rustic 
work, if simple in construction, also looks well. Quite 
a graceful looking oval frame may be formed by twist- 
ing grape vines fantastically together, allowing the ends 
to project at the top and bottom. 

A WAEDIAN CASE. 

This is a small glass closet over a well-drained box 
of soil. It can be constructed in various ways. The 
following is one of the simplest forms. Take a com- 
mon, cheap table, about four feet long, and two wide. 
Remove the top boards, and board the bottom with 
them tightly. Line the box thus formed with zinc. 
Make the top of window glass. It should be about two 
and a half feet high, with a ridge-pole, on which rests 
the slanting roof of glass. In one end of this there 
must be a door of good size. The box must have a 
hole for drainage. 

This is the case, which must now be filled with soil. 



ORNAMENTAL WOEK. 167 

First turn a flower-pot saucer over the hole, which 
would otherwise be stopped up. Then spread over 
the bottom a layer of charcoal and broken pot-sherds 
an inch in depth. On this put the soil, which must be 
mixed in the following proportions : two fourths wood 
soil, one fourth clean sand, one fourth meadow soil 
taken from under fresh turf, and a small proportion of 
charcoal dust. This is large enough to give you a 
succession of flowers the whole winter, if you know 
what to put in it. If you do not, and have no one 
at hand to advise you, florists' catalogues will furnish 
the desired information. But the surest way to suc- 
cess is to write to some well-known florist, telling him 
what fuel you use, the temperature of the room, and 
the exposure of the window, and for a small s"um oi 
money he will send you the proper plants for this 
case, or for hanging baskets and flower-stands. It is 
absolutely necessary that the room in which are grow- 
ing plants should be kept at an even temperature. 

FLOWEK STANDS. 

Plain ones may be made with tables in the same way 
as described for the Wardian case, but without the glass 
cover. Fill the box about one third full of sand, and 
in this imbed the flower pots containing your plants, 
arranging them with reference to size, and also to 
color, if in blossom. Spread moss over the top of the 
stand in such a way as to conceal the pots. This will 
have to be renewed a few times during the winter. The 
sand should be kept damp, but not wet, and the moss 
also a little damp ; and the plants should be watered 
very little except in the case of those that require an 



168 THE HOME. 

unusual supply of moisture, and these had better not 
be kept in the same stand with those that require only 
the ordinary supply. 

The shelves, rising one above another, that have long 
been used for flower-stands, have been found objection- 
able, because the flower-pots are obtrusively ugiy, but 
the flower-pot covers that are now sold remove this 
objection. These can be made of card-board, or thin 
pieces of wood. Still this is not a very desirable form 
of flower-stand, being cumbrous and possessing little 
beauty. The flower-pot covers will be found very nice 
when you wish to set a single plant on the window-sill 
or table. 

For more fanciful forms of flower-stands, you should 
have the standards made by a neighboring cabinet- 
maker m plain wood and of any device. You can then 
ornament them with rustic work at your leisure. For 
the toj) you can have a round, square, or octagon box, 
also embellished with rustic work. Fill with soil, as in 
the Wardian case. Or you can have a fla*^^ circular 
piece of wood nailed to the standard, forming a round 
table. Make lustic work around the edge so that it 
shall be several inches high, and set on the table a bas- 
ket made like a hanging basket, only larger, or some 
fancifully-made box, filled with soil for the reception of 
plants. All stands should be mounted on casters for 
convenience of moving. 

Your own taste will suggest a variety of elegant de- 
vices for flower-stands, either for plants or cut flowers. 
If you can have the frames properly made according to 
your design, you can yourself ornament tbem in many 
beautiful styles. And there is nothing that so adorns a 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 169 

room as a flower stand with its variety of greens and 
brilliant colors. 

HANGING BASKETS. 

If you take a cocoanut shell, and saw off a small sec- 
tion from the upper part, put in it a little piece of 
sponge, fill the shell with nothing but scouring sand, 
and a little charcoal, put in it the common plant, known 
generally as moneywort, and hang it where it can get 
the light and a little sunshine, you will soon have 
long swaying festoons and pendants of soft green, en- 
twined with golden blossoms, through which will gleam 
the dark rich brown of your cocoanut shell, thus easily 
transformed into " a thing of beauty." 

This is the simplest form of the hanging basket. For 
larger ones you can use wooden bowls, ornamented 
with rosettes and figures made of coffee, rice, and ber- 
ries, as mentioned previously. With these can be 
mingled scales of pine cones, leather, leaves, etc. Or 
they can have edgings of rustic work, the rest of the 
bowl being ornamented with rosettes and balls made of 
the small materials. Three holes must be bored at 
regular distances near the edge for the cords that are 
to support the basket. 

Very pretty baskets are made of sticks of oak, maple, 
or any of the handsomely-colored woods ; they should 
be of equal lengths, eight or twelve inches long. Build 
up like a log house. At each corner a heated wire is 
thrust through the ends of the sticks to hold them tn* 
gether, and is bent into a loop at the top which rap- 
ports the cord. A wooden bottom must be nailed on. 
Fill the interstices with moss. 

And so we might go on through all the gradations, 
which are almost infinite up to the elaborate and in- 



170 THE HOME. 

tricate designs in carved wood, shell-work, cork, etc. 
There is nothing easier to make than a hanging basket, 
or more difficult if you choose to take trouble. But 
the idea that many persons have that they must be 
bought is erroneous, for all the plainer styles that are 
sold by florists can be imitated with perfect success 
without very much trouble. A basket covered with 
rustic work carefully made, and pretty in design, with a 
handle of twisted grape vines, at an expenditure of fifty 
cents for materials, and a dollar for plants and vines, 
will be quite as handsome as one the florist would sell 
you for five dollars, and will have the advantage that 
the plants are much more likely to blossom. For it is 
a common complaint that when the baskets lose the 
flowers that are on them when bought they bloom no 
more — not that season, at least. The reason is that the 
dry air of the room in which they are hung is too 
great a change from the moist air of their native home, 
the greenhouse. 

Very few things will grow like moneywort in common 
sand, but the soil in a hanging basket should not be 
very rich, or you will have a profusion of leaves, and 
but few blossoms. A light sandy loam is best. In the 
bottom place a piece of coarse sponge. This will hold 
the moisture, and the roots will absorb it as they require 
it. Also put bits of charcoal in the bottom, as this acts 
as a purifier to keep the earth sweet. Then fill with 
soil, one part rich earth, and two parts sand. 

WAX WORK. 

Wax flowers are the best imitations of the real ones, 
but where the latter can be obtained the former should 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 171 

be dispensed with. With the introduction of hanging 
baskets and flower-stands, we have natural flowers in 
profusion in winter, when it is not always easy to ob- 
tain the cut flowers. So there would seem to be no 
necessity for the wax imitations. If you make these, 
use them sparingly, a spray of white lilies perhaps in 
one room, and a tea rose in another. Do not mass 
them together in great bunches. 

Wax fruits, heaped up under glass covers, are not de- 
sirable ornaments. We marvel for a few moments at 
their wonderful resemblance to the original, but we 
soon tire of them. In a large room, however, they or 
the flowers massed together, do sometimes produce a 
fine effect from a distance, as a focus of brilliant col- 
ors. 

A wax cross, with a trailing vine of passion flowers 
and green leaves, or rising in naked simplicity from a 
bed of violets or pansies, is a beautiful ornament for a 
mantel-piece or bracket. 

LAMP SCREENS AND WINDOW PICTURES. 

We mention these together because what is made for 
a window picture will do for a lamp screen. There are 
many kinds of lamp screens made, however, that can- 
not be used for window pictures, but into the merits of 
these we have not space to enter. The two s tyles we 
select are the prettiest. 

Upon a square of white, or delicately tinted Bristol- 
board, trace lightly some pretty design, such as a bou- 
quet, a cluster of leaves and fruit, or a cross, or an an- 
chor, wreathed with leaves and flowers. The latter 
should be simple in form ; passion-flowers, lilies of the 
valley, apple blossoms, and sweet peas are the most ef- 



172 THE HOME. 

fective. Fern leaves and fruit are also among the sim- 
pler designs. 

For more effective pictures, select parts of a land- 
scape, or figure pictures that are not too elaborate. 

Having traced the design, lay the Bristol-board flat 
on a block of hard vs^ood, and with a thin-bladed and 
very sharp knife proceed to cut smoothly through as 
much of each outline as possible, without entirely de- 
taching any leaf or other distinct portion from the 
whole. One fifth of a leaf left without cutting through 
will be sufficient. Sometimes judicious prickings with 
a coarse needle add to the good effect. The points of 
the leaves and the petals of the flowers should next be 
pressed through toward the window to admit the light, 
and give the softly shaded effect we desire. The trans- 
parency can then be hung close to a window pane by 
means of narrow white ribbon loops at the corners, se- 
cured to the wood-work. 

For lamp screens, several of these pieces of Bristol- 
board, each wHh a separate picture, can be put to- 
gether. 

The glass transparencies are more easily made, and 
require no skill in drawing. 

Arrange pressed ferns, grasses, or autumn leaves, ac- 
cording to some pretty design, on a pane of window 
glass. Lay a pane of the same size over it, and bind 
the edges together with ribbon. 

The best way to put on the binding, is to gum it all 
around the edge of the first pane you use, and let it dry 
before you arrange your design on it. Then you can 
fold it neatly over the second pane, and gum it on that. 
Use gum-tragacanth. It is well to put a narrow piece 
of paper under the ribbon. 



ORNAMENTAL WORK. 173 

To form the loop for hanging, paste a binding of gal- 
loon along the upper edge before the ribbon binding is 
put on, leaving a two-inch loop in the centre, to be 
pulled through a little slit in the final binding. 

For a lamp screen, take four, six, or eight of these 
transparencies, and tack them together with strong 
sewing silk. To soften the light, the screen should be 
lined with oiled tissue paj^er, white or rose-color. Or 
jou can give the glass the effect known as "ground 
glass," by rubbing the inner surface of each pane on a 
fiat smooth stone, plentifully covered with white eajid, 
before you insert the leaves. 



PART VIII, 

HOW TO FUENISH A HOUSE FOR A 
THOUSAND DOLLARS. 

[The following Price Lists are carefully prepared, but 
it must be remembered that prices vary somewhat in 
different localities, and even in different stores in the 
same city, and that they also change from year to year. 
Tho latter is especially true of woven fabrics. But these 
changes are not radical enough to interfere with the 
list as a guide. 

A house may be furnished for a less sum than that 
here given, from directions to be found in Part IIL 

Goods of inferior quality may sometimes be bought 
at lower prices than the same article is quoted in our 
Price List. Cornices, for instance, which we quote at 
three dollars and upward, are sold as low as a dollar 
and a half, but they are poorly made, and not such as 
we would recommend. 

Our object has been to give the prices of standard 
goods that we know to be worth the money paid for 
them.] 



PRICE LIST. 

Kitchen, 15 X 15. 

1 Table (5 feet long) $5.00 

" '• (3 " " ) 3.00 

4 Chairs 3 qq 

Clock 3 00 

Small Lantern 1 .00 

Step Ladder 2. 50 

Scales ^ J gQ 

Nail Hammer 0.50 

Tack " *' ■ 0.25 

Market Basket 0.88 

Clothes *• 1 5Q 

Tm Slop-pail, with cover 1.50 

Coal Scuttle (galvanized) 1.38 

Screw Driver 25 

Tack Claw 0.25 

Hatchet a go 

Can Opener 0.50 

Spoon and Fork Basket 1 .30 

Knife Box 0.38 

Knile Board 0.50 

Ice-Pick Q 25 

Quart Measure 20 

^^^^ " !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!* 0*15 

Coffee Mill 1 Oo 

Sjice " ^,[....... oirS 

Spice Box 1 25 



176 THE HOME. 

Sugar Canister ... l.(X 

Tea " 0.25 

Coffee « 0.25 

Bice « 0.75 

Bread Box 2.00 

Cake « 1.50 

runnel 0.18 

Set of Wash-tubs 5.00 

Clothes Horse 1.50 

Skirt Board 1.25 

Bosom " 0.25 

Wash Board , 0.38 

Wash Bench 1.75 

6 doz. Clothes Pins 0.24 

Wash Boiler 5.00 

Stand for Flat-irons 0.15 

Clothes Liaes 0.75 

6 Flat Irons in three sizes 3.50 

Ironing Blankets 2.00 

2 Carpet Brooms 1.00 

Stove Brush 0.50 

Scrubbing Brush , . , 0.31 

Window *♦ 0.88 

Dust Pan , 0.25 

Tea Kettle (tin) 1.50 

Iron Pot (large) 2.50 

«♦ " (smaU) 1.50 

Enamelled Preservicig Kettle 2.00 

2 Tin Saucepans 1.00 

Steamer and Saucepan 2.00 

Fry Pan (large) 1.00 

*♦ " (small) 0.50 

Dish Pan (large) 1.50 

" " (smaU) 1.00 

Set of 4 round Tin Pans 1.00 

BoU Pan 0.75 

Cake*' (round) 0.25 

2 Bread Pans 0.76 

Drip Pan 1.00 



PRICE LIST. 17? 

' Baking Tin (oval) 0.50 

" « (square) 0.38 

2 Earthen Pans 0.76 

2 Lipped Bowls 0.50 

Set of White Bowls 0.45 

Padding Dish 0.30 

" " (smaller) 0.20 

Wafflelron 1.75 

Muffin Pan, and doz. rings 1.00 

Soap-stone Griddle 1.75 

Chopping Board 0.62 

Bowl 0.62 

Bread " 0.75 

Pastry Board 0.75 

EoUing Pin 0. 25 

2 Pastry Cutters 0.20 

2 Cake « 0.20 

Coffee Boiler 0.75 

2 Bakers , 1.00 

Meat Knife 0.75 

Bread " , LOO 

Chopping '* 0.50 

Cork Screw 0.25 

Meat Fork 0.25 

Toast " . ; 0.15 

Steak Tongs 0.50 

Paste Jagger 0.15 

3 Iron Spoons 0.50 

2 Wooden « 0.20 

Wooden Ladle 0.20 

Vegetable Skimmer 0.25 

2 Water Pails 0.60 

Tin Dipper 0.25 

Hair Sieve 0.75 

Wire «' (large) 0.50 

" (small) 0.31 

Potato Masher 0.15 

Flour Dredger 0.30 

Pepper * ♦ 0.15 



178 THE HOME. 

Lemon Squeezer 0.25. 

Cake Turner 0.20 

Egg Beater 0.18 

2 doz. Patty Pans 0.76 

Gravy Strainer 0.25 

6 Pie Plates 0.60 

2 Graters 0.50 

1 Nutmeg Grater 0.10 

Set of Steel Skewers 0.75 

JeUy Mould 0.75 

CuHender (large) 0.75 

♦ ' (small) 0.50 

Salt Box 0.50 

2 Gridirons (large and small) 1.00 



Total $109.30 



EXTRAS. 



Hair Broom •. $1.75 

Feather Duster 1.50 

StairBrush 1.12 

Ash Kettle and Sifter 4 50 

Garbage Pail 5.00 

Batter Kettle 1.50 

Enamelled Iron Saucepan 1 .50 

« Kettle 2.00 

Tinned Iron Saucepan 1.38 

« Kettle 1.50 

" " Stewpan 1.75 

Knife Washer 1.38 

Jelly Strainer 3.00 

Plate Warmer (japanned) 6.50 

Table Service for Servants 3.62 

Knives and Forks " 1.50 

Porcelain-lined fire proof Baking Dish, silver plated 

outside 7.25 

Clothes Wringer 8.00 

Befrigerator 15.00 

Upright Boaster and Jack 16.00 



PEICE LIST. 179 



DINING-KOOM, 15 X 18. 

2 Scotch Holland Window Shades with tassels, and 

patent rollers $3.80 

14 yards Satine for curtains for two windows 8. 75 

2 Window Cornices, walnut and gilt 7.00 

30 yards American Ingrain Carpeting at $1.50 per 

yard 45.00 

Walnut Extension Table for 12 persons 14.00 

6 Chairs, walnut with cane seats 18.00 

Walnut Sideboard 40.00 

Water Cooler 3.00 

Japanned Tea Tray 1.50 

Small Tray for waiter » 0.75 

Britannia Coffee Pot 2.75 

Egg BoUer (wire) 0.75 

1 doz. Plated Table Forks 10.00 

«* « Dessert " 9.00 

" " Table Spoons 10.00 

«« « Dessert ♦* 9.00 

" « Tea « 5.00 

A Plated Dinner Caster 10.00 

1 doz. Eubber-handled Knives 6.00 

Carver and Steel 3.50 

Set of Pahn-leaf Tabic Mats 1.00 

Dinner Bell 0.50 

Plated CaU BeU 1.50 

Plain white French China Dinner Set, 134 pieces. . 30.00 
Plain white French China Tea Set, 44 pieces 7.50 

1 doz. Goblets, cut glass 4.00 

« Tumblers, pressed glass 1.00 

Celery Glass 0.75 

2 Preserve Dishes, cut glass, and of different sizes . . 3.00 

China Fruit Basket 1.50 

Glass 1.00 

Water Pitcher 0.75 

Molasses Jug 0.75 

1 doz Glass! Salt CeUars 0.75 

Total $261.80 



180 THE HOME. 



EXTRAS. 

Solid Silver Table Spoons $55 to 60 

« « ♦« Forks ♦* ** « 

♦ ' " Dessert '* 40 to 45 

«« «* «< Spoons * • ** " 

'« " Tea " 24 to 30 

English Porcelain Dinner Set, 142 pieces 25.00 

English Porcelain Tea Set, 56 pieces 5.25 

1 doz. Ivory-handled Elnives 7.00 

Glass Knife-rests, each, 0.25 

Set of Tea Trays 7.50 

Plated Breakfast-caster 5.00 

Note— The plated ware in the above list is of the very best triple plate, 
and will stand the wear of years. But spoons and forks are sold at lowei 
prices, less heavily plated — quite good articles at two dollars less on each 
dozen. 

The china sets are very full and of fine quality. A greatly inferior kind, 
less serviceable, and with fewer pieces, can be bought as low as seventeen 
dollars for a dinner service ; and, in English Porcelain, as low as thirteen 
dollars. 



TABLE-LINEN AND TOWELS. 

8 yards Linen Damask, for 4 table-cloths $4.80 

2 Bordered Table-cloths, finer Damask, 2i yards 

long 9.00 

Material for 2 kitchen table-cloths 1.50 

2 doz. Plain Napkins .... 4.00 

li «* Fine « 9.00 

2 doz. Towels 6.0-' 

1 *♦ Fine Towels 9.00 

6 Towels for servant's room 1.00 

8 •' " glass and china 1.60 

8 Coarser Dish Towels 0.96 

Total $46.86 



PRICE LIST. 181 



BED-ROOM, 15 X 18. 

2 Window-shades. $3.80 

14 yards Chintz for curtains for two windows 4.90 

2 "Window-cornices, walnut and gilt 6.00 

30 yards American Ingrain Carpeting, at $1.50 per 

yard 45.00 

Suit of Cottage Furniture, 10 pieces, with marble- 
top bureau, and wash-stand 50.00 

Springs for Bedstead 5.00 

Hair Mattress, (40 lbs.) 28.00 

2 Feather Pillows, (4 Iba. each) 8.00 

Feather Bolster, 6 lbs.) 6.00 

1 pair Blankets 15.00 

2 Marseilles Spreads 8.00 

3 pairs Cotton Sheets, (9-4 wide) 8.25 

*« « " PiUow-cases, (5-4 wide) 3.60 

3 Cotton Bolster-cases 1.56 

White China Toilet Set, (13 pieces) 7.50 

Total $200.61 



PARLOR AND SITTING-ROOM: COMBINED, 15 X 18. 

2 Scotch Holland Window Shades, with tassels and 

patent rollers $4.40 

14 yards Nottingham Lace, for two windows,, with 
lambrequins of satine, covered with the lace, 
and cords and tassels 36.00 

2 Gilt Window-cornices 10.00 

30 yards English Ingrain Carpeting, at $1.75 per 

yard 52.50 

Part of a Suit of Oiled Walnut Furniture, includ- 
ing sofa, large easy-chair, and small easy- 
chair, covered with woolen rep 84.00 

2 Walnut Keception-chairs, straw seats 10.00 

Sewing-chair 6.00 



182 THE HOME. 

Fancy Chair 12.00 

Walnut Table, witli marble top 16.00 

Total $229.90 

HALL AND STAIRWAY. 

6 yards Venetian Carpeting for Hall, yard wide, at 

$2.50 per yard. $15.00 

10 yards Venetian Carpeting for Stairway, half 

yard wide, at $1.25 per yard 12.50 

li dozeu Stair-pads 3.75 

1 ^ dozen Brass Stair-rods 6.75 

Hat-stand and Umbrella-rack 10.00 



Total $48.00 

servant's room, 15 X 15. 

1 Wmdow Shade and Trimmings $1.00 

25 yards Eag Carpeting 25.00 

Small Table 2.00 

Looking Glass 1 .00 

Wash-stand 2.00 

Chair 0.75 

Rocking-chair 3.00 

Single Bedstead 5.00 

Springs for Bedstead 3.00 

Hair Mattress 10.00 

1 pair Blankets 5.50 

Colored Cotton Bed-spread 1.75 

Feather PiUow, (3 lbs.) 3.00 

3 pairs Cotton Sheets, (6-4 wide) 3.39 

3 Pillow-cases 1.20 

Toilet Set 2.50 



Total $70.09 



extras. 



Bnrean, with glass $10.00 

Calico Comfortable 2.50 




Hints on Dress ; 



OR, 



WHAT TO WEAK, WHEN TO WEAR IT, AND 
HOW TO BUY IT. 



ETHEL C. GALE, 




NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 AND 29 West 23d Street 



Entered according to act of Congress, in tiie year 1872, by 

G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

OTJTIilNE HISTOKT OP COSTUME. 

PAGl 

Costumes of the Assyrians and ancient Egyptians — Of tlie 
Greeks and Romans — Of the English, French and Span- 
ish — Progress of civilization illustrated by changes of 
costume 1 

CHAPTER II. 

WHAT WE MEAN BY DBESSINO WELL. 

Showing that we cannot be well dressed without attention 
to healthf-iilness, comfort, suitability, becomingncss, and 
what we can afford 22 

CHAPTER in. 

THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 

Mentioning articles which form essential parts of the ward- 
robe of every woman 39 

CHAPTER IV. 

COLOE, FORM AND SUITABILITY. 

The effect produced by different colors upon various complex- 
ions — What colors can be worn together — What fashions 



IV CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

should be adopted by tall or short, stout or thin — What 
may be fitting upon different occasions and under differ- 
ent circumstances dS 



CHAPTEfl Y. 

ESTIMATES OF COST. 

Containing detailed statements of the yearly cost of their 
dress from twelve ladies, all of whom are always respect- 
ably, and some of whom are handsomely dressed, upon 
less sums than are often expended for single costumes. . G3 

CHAPTEK VI. 

HOW AND -WHAT TO BUY. 

Advice in regard to " bargains," etc. — Statements in regard 
to the prices and best qualities of all sorts of dress 
goods, gathered from the most reliable sources — Silks — 
Poplins — Cashmeres — Grenadines — Summer and winter 
materials — Muslins — Flannels — Cloths — Velvets — Furs- 
Gloves — Laces, etc 73 

CHAPTER Vn. 

HINTS ON DEESS. 

JSbowing the duty of economy, and some ways in which it 
may be considered without detriment to taste 99 



HINTS ON DRESS. 



CHAPTER I. 

OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 

To commence a chapter relating to the vagaries of 
Fashion, with a quotation from so antiquated an au- 
thority as Solomon, may seem absurd ; but, in fact, no 
truth is more patent to one who has even slightly ex- 
plored the history of costume, than that " there is 
nothing new under the sun." 

True, the traditional fig-leaves of Eden would seem 
to bear but small resemblance to the silks and laces of 
Broadway ; but the fig-leaves could not but have been 
formed into something of a tunic shape, and what is the 
polonaise of to-day, but a much be-puffed and torment- 
ed tunic? The idea has been the same from Eve 
downwards. For shame's sake, as well as for warmth, 
we must be clothed ; but vanity at first, and afterwards 
taste, have turned the shame and the necessity into oc- 
casions of display, and aids to beauty. 

We say vanity first, for the traditions and remains 
of all nations show that taste in dress, as in all other 
arts, has been the slow growth of civihzation and re- 
finement ; while love of mere show in attire has been 



2 HINTS ON DRESS. 

one of the most striking of barbarian characteristics. 
In exact proportion to a people's mental advance has 
been the decrease of its love of mere finery in apparel, 
and the increase of its attention to those primary ele- 
ments of beauty, form, proportion, color and fitness. 

Traditions may carry us back farther, but the first 
costumes of which v^e have any accurate knowledge, 
are those of the ancient Assyrians and Egyptians, as 
displayed in the lately exhumed bas-reliefs of long- 
buried Nineveh, and in the sculptures and paintings 
discovered in the desecrated tombs of Egypt. These 
records of otherwise almost forgotten dynasties show, 
that while they had attained much skill in many of 
the useful arts, and could build temples and palaces 
which still astonish us with their grandeur, the ideas of 
these ancient peoples had not been turned so much to- 
ward beauty, as toward magnificence. 

Especially is this shown in matters of dress. Rich- 
ness of attire was the thing desired. If it is true, as 
has been said, that the tendencies of a people are as 
strikingly displayed in its costumes as in its laws, then 
the most elevated aims of all nations, previous to the 
rise of the Greeks, must have been the subjugation of 
their neighbors and the acquisition of wealth. Their 
garments seem formed with special reference to conve- 
nience, when attacking an enemy ; and to show, when 
triumphing over the vanquished. Grace of form is 
sacrificed to utility in time of war, and to cumbrous de- 
coration during the festivities of peace. Harmony of 
coloring is less considered than its vividness and 
quantity. Nature seems to have been entirely disre- 
garded, and cost to have been made the standard of 
beauty. Thus, if a dye-stuff is expensive, it must 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 3 

not only be used to color the robe, but the cheeks, 
the lips, the finger tips must be made flaming with 
scarlet, or ghastly with blue. As the possession of gold 
and of precious stones is a token of wealth and cor- 
responding social importance, the first must be woven 
into silk or linen garments till they become so stiff that 
the "line of beauty" is vexed into graceless angles; 
and the second are strung in glittering ropes about the 
head, neck, arms, ankles, or waist, till the whole over- 
loaded person seems ablaze with them. 

All this is, of course, with the higher classes. With 
the lower, there is not only no attempt at beauty, but 
none at even display. Vanity is ever a selfish senti- 
ment, and the powerful have never allowed their social 
inferiors to imitate, even at a distance, the extravagant 
costumes so complacently worn by themselves. For 
the laborers, three thousand years ago, there were no 
tunics .heavy with gold, or robes of fine linen fretted 
with uncouth designs in toilsome needlework. The 
weaver of " purple, and scarlet, and fine linen," and the 
" cunning worker," in brass and in gold, wore only a 
coarse woolen apron, or at most, a short and sleeveless 
tunic of the same material, bound at the waist with a 
rope of Camel's hair. 

It was not until the rise of the Greeks that dress, 
ceasing to be a mere exhibition of its wearer's rank and 
wealth, became an exponent of ideas of beauty. This 
race, always joy and beauty-loving, at first by tempera- 
ment and afterwards from cultivation, though devoting 
less time and labor to the manufacture of articles of 
dress than any of the great peoples that had pre- 
ceded, or were contemporaneous with it, was the first 
to make a fine-art of dress. Discarding all that was 



4: HINTS ON DRESS. 

cumbrous, gaudy and unnatural, they adopted cos- 
tumes which remain our best models of grace, and, in 
similarly genial climes, of utility. 

But it must not be inferred that the drapery of 
Grecian art is intended as a representation of the dresses 
worn in the common occupations of life. The drapery 
of the old Greek sculptors was founded on artistic 
principles and ideas — not on those of practical utility ; 
while the every-day dress, beautiful and simple though 
it always remained, was " conformed to the protection 
and comfort of the body, and the convenience of the 
wearer." 

The principal garment of either sex, when engaged in 
any industrial employment, was the chiton, a sort of long 
and large under-waistcoat, sometimes reaching to the 
feet, but often only coming below the knee. This was 
sometimes provided with two long sleeves, and was 
sometimes destitute of any ; but more frequently one 
arm was protected by a sleeve, while the other was left 
free, the garment being fastened on that side by a 
brooch on the shoulder. This one-sleeved variety' was 
worn chiefly by laboring people. The chiton when worn 
by women was confined at the waist by a broad belt, or 
zone. 

The principal outer garment was the himation, a 
square piece of cloth, like a modern shawl, of more or 
less costly fabric, according to the means of the wearer. 
This was thrown over the left shoulder, drawn across 
the back to the right side, generally below the right 
arm, but sometimes over it, and again over the right 
shoulder or arm. Every lady of modern times knows 
that to carry a shawl well, requires both grace and 
adroitness on the part of the wearer. Therefore, it is 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 5 

not a matter of astonishment that the art of wearing 
the himation was one much studied by the young Athe- 
nians of both sexes who desired to acquire reputations 
as leaders of the ton. The brilhant Alcibiades was as 
vain of his proficiency in this art as of any of his more 
valuable attainments. 

In addition to the above two articles of universal 
wear, were several others in more or less common use, 
but all presenting the same general characteristics of 
freedom, lightness, and grace. 

All ancient nations with any pretensions to civiliza- 
tion used sandals, or shoes of some sort, but among the 
Greeks the art of shoe-making was carried to an almost 
Parisian degree of perfection, though shoes were not 
considered so much an article of constant necessity as 
of occasional utility ; and it was not thought indecor- 
ous to receive visitors, or even, at times, to attend a 
banquet, with unshod feet. 

Hats, though well known, and of several styles, were 
little worn, save by travellers, or agi-icultural laborers. 
Under the warm suns of a Grecian summer, men and 
women carried umbrellas and parasols almost precisely 
like our own, only that they could not be closed. 

" And," says Pres. Felton, " let not our Broadway 
* swell ' imagine his race the first to whisk the slender 
cane with well-satisfied air ; for canes were known at 
least twenty- three centuries ago, being then sported by 
the degenerate descendants of Homer's spear-bearing 
heroes ; a faint reminiscence of that warlike weapon." 

Gloves were only worn by laboring people when en- 
gaged in work of a kind to stain, or otherwise disfigure 
the hands. 

In regard to the use of color, we see among the 



6 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Greeks as marked an improvement as in other respects, 
upon the ideas of less civilized nations. Although ac- 
quainted with all the more brilUant dyes used so freely 
by Syrians, Persians and Egyptians, all the glaring col- 
ors were shunned by the Greeks in dress, as being in 
bad taste, though they did not hesitate to employ thf^ 
gayest hues, as well as the richest embroideries, for 
spreads and canopies to beds, couches, etc. 

Jewelry, though worn in different degrees by all 
classes, was not put on in the tasteless profusion shown 
by the less cultivated nations of antiquity, and by- 
some, even, of more recent date. 

But it was, perhaps, in the styles of hair-dressing 
practised by the Greeks, that their superiority over 
other races in regard to personal adornment is most 
manifest. Hair was regarded as an important acces- 
sory to the beauty of the face ; in the words of one of 
their authors — " a thing to make the handsome hand- 
somer ; the ugly more tolerable." Consequently they 
neither shaved it, nor hid it with turbans and caps, nor 
tortured it into towers, or wings of unnatural size, 
shape, and weight. Nor were their notions of the 
quantity of hair desirable on the human head so pervert- 
ed and exaggerated that they deemed it necessary to bor- 
row from other nations. The Greeks had many fash- 
ions of wearing the hair and beard, varying the style 
to suit the face and figure it was intended to adorn ; 
but while some of these might be considered an im- 
provement upon the natural manner of growth, none 
were k?2 natural. 

In short, the whole graceful, harmonious and com- 
fortable costume of the Greeks was the legitimate out- 
growth of their superior mental and physical oi'gani- 



OUTLINE HISTORY OP COSTUME. 7 

zation. They loved beauty, as they loved pleasure, for 
its own sake. Their cultivated minds gave them an 
appreciation of all that aided or developed beauty, as 
well as enabled them to define and adhere to its- 
laws. 

Having once discovered the beautiful, whether in 
nature or in art, they never suffered themselves to be 
seduced from its worship by the allurements of its dead- 
liest foe, personal vanity. 

Of no other nation can this be said. Even among 
the Etruscans, graceful and charming as their costumes 
were, and strongly resembling those of the Greeks, 
there is a falling away from the strict worship of 
beauty, marked by ostentatious profusion of ornament, 
and a useless accumulation of garments. 

The costumes of the early Bomans were derived di- 
rectly from the Greeks, the tunica of the one correspon- 
ding with the chiton of the other, and the toga being 
only a fuller and larger himation. 

In addition to the tunica^ and the toga, both sexes 
wore in bad weather a pcenula, or weather-shield, pre- 
cisely like the South-American poncho of to-day. This 
is a large square, or oblong piece of cloth, with a slit in 
the middle through which the head is thrust ; the 
poncho, or pcenula, then, falls nearly to the feet, but 
could be taken up at the sides on the hems if desired. 

The synthesis, a mantle shorter and more convenient 
than the toga, was used instead of the latter at ban- 
quets. 

Women habitually wore two tunics ; a short, sleeve- 
less one, called the tunica interim, was next the person, 
and one called a stola, made with sleeves, very full, and 
so much longer than the figure that the superfluous 



8 HINTS ON DRESS. 

leDgth was laid in folds around the waist. As an outer 
garment they wore a pailay or sort of shawl-cloak, re- 
sembling the masculine toga. 

At no period of their history were the Roman ideas 
of beauty so clear or so controlling as those of the 
Greeks ; but having a sincere reverence for this finer 
attribute of the elder nation, the younger adopted its 
costumes, and many of its customs, without question, 
devoting their own, perhaps grander, and certainly 
more aggressive intellects, to the founding and building 
up of a strong, free, and enlightened power. , 

As a people, the Romans were, from their first breath, 
exceedingly proud ; but pride differs from vanity in 
that it is not an enervating principle. Licentiousness 
and vanity go hand in hand, and as the Romans be- 
came vain and sensual, the decay of their great power 
insensibly advanced. The progress of this decay can 
be as distinctly traced by the changes of costume as by 
the 'record of events. With the declension of the 
severe Roman pride, which had held itself haughtily 
above such effeminacy, came an increased use of em- 
broideries, and of jewelry, and a greater attention to 
fineness of texture, so that the silks and fine needle- 
work, in the days of the Republic deemed only appro- 
priate for the despised courtesan, were, in the days of 
the Empire, sought by senators to make their magiste- 
rial robes. 

Some few of the innovations, however, sprung from 
a desire for increased comfort ; as, for instance, the 
adoption of the sort of trowsers called braccce — whence 
the term breeches — worn during the colder months. 
This was an importation from the conquered Britons. 
Later, other portions of dress were borrowed from Teu- 



OUTLINE HISTORY OP COSTUME. 9 

tonic nations, and modern costumes seem to be the fan- 
tastic outgrowth of this comminghng of civilization 
and barbarism, and of the requirements of widely dif- 
fering climates. During all the long centuries snice 
the enervated Boman civilization was overpowered by 
the rush and energy of the rude Northern tribes, the 
struggles of a genuine love of beauty with a merely 
personal vanity, and of ideas of practical utility with 
the caprice of the moment, has resulted in continually 
varying styles, generally vying with each other in gro- 
tesqueness, discomfort, and costhness ; but occasion-- 
ally — as in the case of the shirt — introducing some 
marked improvement. For this essential article of 
masculine attire, moderns are indebted to the Saxons. 
Bat it is mainly to the French, dating at least from the 
time of the Norman conquest of England, that the 
world of fashion owes most of its styles, both good and 
bad. 

The appearance of a distinct waist and skirt of a 
gown, is hrst noticed in the costumes of Queen Philip- 
pa, wife of Edward III., of England, and of Queen 
Jeanne of Bourbon, wife of the French Charles the 
Wise, about the year 1360. Upon the lower edges of 
these waists, which are very long, reaching about eight 
inches below the natural line, the long and full skirts 
are laid in deep " side-plaits." The necks were cut 
half-low, and the sleeves long, and tight-fitting. A very 
little later than this, we begin to see long and full gored 
dresses of the style we now call " Gabrielle." Close- 
fitting basques appear soon after. 

Previous to the fourteenth century, ladies' dresses 
seem to have been cut in one length from neck to ankle, 
not fitted to the waist with seams, but bound with a 



10 HINTS ON DRESS. 

girdle, and fastened on the shoulders, an d outside of 
the sleeves with brooches. 

Near the beginning of the j&fteenth century, ladies 
began to drag about the long, unwieldy trains which 
have ever since, at longer or shorter intervals, afflicted 
their daughters. 

But in nothing has Fashion ever so displayed her 
entire indifference to beauty, utility, and comfort, as in 
the head-dresses she has from time to time devised, 
with a perverted ingenuity akin to that which invented 
the tortures of the Inquisition. 

Even in our own day we are sometimes forced to ex- 
claim at the ughness and the unhealthy weight of the 
modern chignon, and at the piles of impossible-to-be- 
natural hair which Fashion has ordained. But let us 
be thankful, O sisters, that she has not yet condemned 
us to the frightfully ugly and wretchedly uncomfortable 
head-dresses of the fifteenth century. 

Margaret of Anjou, the heroic but ill-judged and 
ill-fated Queen of Henry VI. of England, has always 
been an object of pity for her many misfortunes. 
Among these we have never seen her head-dress men- 
tioned, but surely it deserves a prominent place. 
Imagine it ! A perpendicular tower of stiff gold net- 
work, filled in with velvet, and adorned with precious 
stones, the whole entirely concealing the hair, and ris- 
ing to a height of eighteen inches above the forehead. 
This substantial erection is said to have possessed the 
additional merit of weighing ^ight pounds. Is it any 
wonder ihat poor Queen Margaret complained of her 
*' fevered brain ?" 

A little later in the same century the celebrated 
steeple head-dresses were worn. These sometimes con- 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 11 

sisted of a simple pointed roll of white linen rising to 
a lieight of eighteen inches from the head, covered 
with ample folds of fine white lawn, which floated to 
the ground, or were caught up under the arm. At 
other times the steeple was a structure differing from 
that worn by Queen Margaret only in shape, being 
made of the same stuffs, and equally high and heavy, 
but leaning backwards, like a miniature tower of Pisa, 
from the top of the head, terminating in a sharp point. 
Afterwards, two similar horns, diverging like those of 
a cow fi'om the sides of the head, and each about two 
feet in height, were considered very stylish, especially 
when a long and heavily embroidered veil was suspend- 
ed from between them. 

During this century colored silks and velvets, richly 
trimmed with embroidery, or rare furs, or both, came 
into use among the higher classes. 

Various styles of head-dresses besides those described, 
any one of which it would delight the "King of the 
Cannibal Islands" to sport at one of his banquets, 
were invented by tyrannical Fashion for both sexes, and 
slavishly worn during this and the following centuries. 
But it was during the seventeenth century that Fashion 
achieved that triumph of the grotesque, the full and 
powdered periwig, which in some of its many forms 
crowned the masculine head for more than a hundred 
years. 

The mental advance of nations has rarely kept pace 
with their material growth. Consequently we observe 
that with the increase of wealth comes an increased love 
of display, without a proportionate love of beauty. A 
barbaric tendency to monstrous forms of personal 
adornment marks the entire period from the beginning 



12 HINTS ON DRESS. 

of the fourteenth till the middle of the eighteenth cen- 
turies. This of itself would show — even if we did not 
know from other sources — that notwithstanding that 
the latter half of this period is rendered illustrious by 
the most brilliant names in literature and art, the mass 
of all classes were uncultivated, save that among the 
higher orders a certain degree of external polish had 
been attained. 

Within the above period are discovered the most hid- 
eous disfigurements which Fashion has ever devised. 
But let it not be imagined that women only were under 
her thrall, for notwithstanding it cannot be denied that 
woman is, as she has been described by an ancient 
writer, of a surly and unfilial nature, " an animal ad- 
dicted to finery," we do not find that the female of the 
species is alone in the proclivity. 

Let us glance at the costume of a gentleman of the 
court of Eichard the Second of England, in the latter 
half of the fourteenth century. The coat, which is 
of a vivid green color, plentifully sprinkled with gold 
stars, is similar in cut to the sacque of the present day, 
but belted at the waist by a broad gold band. The 
sleeves of this coat are long, and fit over the palm of 
the hand to form mits, or half gloves. Hose covering 
the entire leg, and fastened on the outside with gold 
buttons, are made of cloth of different colors, one leg 
being red, the other blue. On the left side is suspend- 
ed from the belt a small blue velvet bag, weighted with 
heavy gold tassels. On the head is a low, round, 
brimless and visorless cap of scarlet tui'ned up with 
white. 

More than a century later we find Henry, of Blue- 
Beard propensities, clad in a ^^frocke (or loose coat) of 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 13 

crimson velvet, embroidered all over with gold of da- 
mask, the sleeves and breast slashed and lined with 
cloth of gold, and tied together with great buttons of 
diamonds, rubies, and orient pearls." The shirts were 
" pinched " — i. e. plaited, and embroidered with gold, 
silver, or silk. The long hose, which before Henry's 
time had been made of cloth, were now of knitted 
silk. 

But Henry, with all his gay attire, never achieved 
anything as startling as the dress worn by the gallant 
lords who " danced attendance " on the whims of the 
younger, but more illustrious of his daughters. To 
whisper an insinuation against the " fardingales " worn 
by Elizabeth herself, may be thought scarcely pohte in 
the days which have so lately endured the similar 
enormity of the " tilting hoops," and have not yet ban- 
ished the " panier ;" but the " trunk-hose" worn by the 
Earl of Leicester and his compeers, have so long disap- 
peared that they may be spoken of without offence. 

The " trunk-hose " were short and very full breeches 
of velvet, silk, satin or damask, of the brightest colors, 
gathered into tight bands at a short distance above the 
knee, and distended so that their wearers could attain 
the coveted circumference of nearly three yards about 
the hips, by a stuffing of curled horse-hair, or of bran. 
That is, one of these materials was always supposed 
to form the stuffing ; but in the latter part of the 
reign of James 1st — for the trunk-hose, seeming endow- 
ed with as much vitality as the derided but irrepressible 
hoop, endured with various modifications almost till the 
advent of Cromwell — the person of a young dandy un- 
der arrest for some crime (not an unusual thing with 



14 HINTS ON DRESS. 

the " gay cavaliers") was searched and the padding of 
his trunk-hose is thus recorded : 

" A pair of sheets, 
Two table cloths, 
Ten napkins, 
Four shirts, 
A hand glass, 
A comb, and 
A night-cap." 

Why this unlucky dandy should have thus made a 
peripatetic valise of himself is not mentioned. The 
offence for which he was under arrest was not that of 
petit larceny.. 

To return to the costume of the " magnificent Earl " 
and his contemporaries. 

Surmounting the trunk-hose was a long-waisted 
doublet, a sort of compromise between a vest and a 
coat, made of the richest material, and " quilted and 
stuffed, slashed, jagged, pinched and laced." Over the 
doublet were worn " as many varieties of coats and 
jerkins as there are days in a year. The short cloaks 
were of the Spanish, French, and Dutch cuts, and made 
of cloth, silk, velvet and taffeta of all colors, trimmed 
with gold, silver, and silk lace, and glass bugles, inside 
and outside being equally superb." The cap was of 
velvet, without brim or visor, but with a gold band 
about the head, and trimmed with a handsome plume. 
The shoes were trimmed with full rosettes of ribbon, 
the manufacture of which was then first introduced 
into England. The long stockings were of knitted 
silk, and generally of some gay color contrasting with 
that of the trunk-hose. 



OUTLINE HISTORY Of COSTUME. 15 

But the crowning glory of the costumes of both sexes 
during the reign of Elizabeth was the stiff, grotesque, 
torturing " ruff." 

Ministers of every religion, from the ancient priest to 
the modern lay preacher, have always delivered jere- 
miads, and invectives, against the more remarkable 
freaks of passing fashion, therefore we cannot wonder 
that many pulpit orators assailed the ruff. One of 
these filters against the windmill of the time, tells his 
congregation that there is a " certain liquid matter call- 
ed starch, wherein the Devil hath learned the Holland 
washerwomen to wash and dive their ruffs, which being 
dry will then stand stiff and invincible about their 
necks.'* 

Of course it is not to be imagined that any of the 
preachers' hearers who might have hitherto escaped a 
knowledge of this new invention of his unnamable Ma- 
jesty, would now seek to be instructed in its mysteries ! 
Human nature, as we all know, having ever manifest- 
ed an aversion to tasting forbidden fruit. 

At short and infrequent intervals through this 
whole period — from the beginning of the fourteenth to 
that of the eighteenth centuries — Fashion would con- 
sent, at the bidding of some monarch more tasteful 
than the ordinary, to banish for a while her propensity 
for the grotesque and the splendid. But she only 
" stooped to conquer," for after each such concession 
she indulged in yet more astonishing whimsies. In 
France these were often more ridiculous than in Eng- 
land ; for in that country Fashion has ever been more 
hckle than elsewhere, and in her haste to adopt the 
new, she has more often accepted the hideous or the 
comic. 



16 HINTS ON DRESS. 

We are not, for instance, accustomed to consider 
as especially beautiful the long-pointed bodice, the 
puffed sleeves, the big fardingale, the belligerent-look- 
ing ruff, and the bat-wing-like head-dress of Queen Eliza- 
beth. When descending the broad staircase at Hamp- 
ton Court, or proceeding through the halls of Kenil- 
worth, we fancy she must have borne a striking 
resemblance to a " ship-of-the-line " under full sail. 
But Elizabeth, in adapting, had greatly modified the 
costume of her foes across the Channel, especially by 
reducing the circumference of the shoulders from eight 
feet to five. If Elizabeth looked like a ship-of-the-line, 
a French lady of the court of Henry HI. must have 
appeared as formidable, and as clumsy, as the whole 
unwieldy Spanish Armada! With her fardingale so 
very large about the hips, but allowing the heavy skirts 
to dangle as they pleased below ; with her excessively 
long and much be-padded waist; her enormous sleeves, 
puffed out by means of bags of down to a size sugges- 
tive of aerial voyages, an effect heightened by the pro- 
jecting eighteen-inch-wide wings of her flat head-dress; 
and with her stiffly starched ruff, sometimes two feet in 
width, this walking monument to the follies of Fashion, 
could never have seemed beautiful to any but the most 
perverted taste. 

As a rule, the Spanish costumes have always con- 
formed more nearly to true ideas of beauty than those 
of any other modern nation. The Spaniards have rarely 
adopted unnatural, ungraceful fashions. They have 
been too proud to be vain. Hence while their costumes 
have always been rich, and worn with a grace and ease 
peculiar to themselves, they have but seldom resorted 
to that vulgar excess of ornament, which has been such 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 17 

a blemish in the attire of peoples in most respects 
more enlightened than they. 

In England, during the reign of Charles L, the 
costumes of both sexes were approximated to those of 
Spain, and are always quoted as being the most pictu- 
resque England has ever been able to boast. 

A dress of Charles I. is thus described : " A dark 
green velvet doublet, with broad and soft lace collar 
gathered on a band, and tied at the throat with cord 
and tassels ; and with wide ruffles at the wrists turned 
back, scalloped, and trimmed with lace. Breeches of 
the same material and color as the doublet tied below 
the knee." (Charles himself had abandoned the gro- 
tesque trunk-hose very early in his reign, though many 
did not relinquish them till after the days of the Crom- 
weUian Revolution.) "Red stockings, black shoes, 
with dark green shoe-roses, and a short red cloak lined 
with blue, with a gold star on the shoulder, completed 
this costume.'* 

The dress of one of his gay young cavaliers re- 
sembled that of the king, but was much and fantasti- 
cally embroidered. Over the right shoulder passed the 
sword belt, wrought and presented by his " ladye-love,** 
and in it was hung the short Spanish rapier. In the 
flapping beaver hat was worn a plume of feathers con- 
lined by a jewel. 

Though more brightly colored, and more fanciful 
than would now be considered manly, the dress of 
Charles the First was in undeniably good taste ; and 
that of his Queen, with its full flowing skirt, its half- 
close sleeve, its falling collar edged with rich lace, and 
the natural hau' worn in graceful ringlets, was both 
simple and elegant. Amid much that was better lost, 



18 HINTS ON DBESS. 

the stern Puritan zeal of Cromwell and his followers 
swept away these picturesque costumes, and upon the 
accession of Charles the Second they were not restored 
in their purity. As the court of Charles II. had de- 
generated in morality from that of his father, so had 
it in dress. The chivalric character of both costume 
and society had deteriorated — the one into grotesque- 
ness, the other into license. 

From a dramatic pastoral written in this reign, we 
extract a catalogue of articles considered necessary to a 
lady's toilet, by contrast with which we think even a 
modern belle's list of essentials might seem moderate. 

"Chains, coronets, pendens, bracelets, and ear rings ; 
Pins, girdles, spangles, embroyderies, and rings, 
Shadomes, rebutaines, ribbons, ruffs, cuffs, falls ; 
Scarf es, feathers, fans, masks, muffs, laces, cauls ; 
Thin tiffanies, cobweb lawn, and fardingales ; 
Sweet fals, vayles, wimples, glasses, crisping pins ; 
Pots of ointment, combs, with poking sticks and bodkins ; 
Coyfes, gargets, fringes, rowles, fillets, and hair laces ; 
Silks, damasks, velvets, tinsels, cloth of gold ; 
And tissues with colors of a hundred fold. 

******** 

"Waters she hath to make her face to shine ; 
Confections eke to clarify her skin ; 
Lip salves and cloths of a rich scarlet dye 
She hath, which to her cheeks she doth apply ; 
Ointment wherewith she rubbeth o'er her face, 
And lustrifies her beauty's dying grace." 

Later than this, in 1719, during the reign of the first 
George, we find a priced list of garments denominated 
*' essential " to every lady's wardrobe. 

The aggregate cost amounts to about $2,000, which, 
when the difference in the value of money, and the fact 



OUTLINE HISTOBY OF COSTUME. 19 

that ver}^ few articles of daily utility are enumerated, 
are taken into account, would make the actual outfit 
nearly or quite equal to a $10,000 trousseau in our 
day, and sufficiently shows that the outcry against ex- 
travagance, and the cause for it, are not peculiar to 

the nineteenth century. 

£ s. d. 

Smock of Cambric Holland 2 2 

Marseilles quilted petticoat 3 6 

Hoop petticoat covered with tabinet 2 15 

French or Italian quilted silk petticoat 10 

Mantua and petticoat of French brocade 78 

French point, or Flanders lace head-dress, 

ruffles and tucker 80 

English stays 3 

French necklace 1 5 

Flanders lace handkerchief 10 

French or Italian flowers for hair 2 

Italian fan 5 

1 pr. English silk stockings 1 

1 pr. English shoes 2 10 

French girdle 15 

Cambric handkerchief 10 

French kid gloves 2 6 

'* d-la-mode hood (black) 15 

" laced hood 5 5 

•' embroidered bosom-knot 2 2 

•' garters 15 

Pockets, Marseilles quilting 1 5 

Muff 5 5 

Sable tippet 15 

Lining Italian lutestring 8 

1 pr. thread stockings 10 

Turkish handkerchief 5 5 

Leghorn hat 1 10 

Beaver hat and feather (riding) 3 

Eiding habit 47 10 

Three dresses for masquerade, two from Venice 36 

Parisian dress of green velvet d la sultane . . 123 15 



20 HINTS ON DRESS. 

From the Eestoration of Charles the Second to the 
present day has proceeded, with all the varying fortunes 
of war, the struggle between French art and Puritanic 
severity ; the old aristocratic ideas of caste, and the 
democratic ideas of utility ; with an occasional gleam 
of good taste on both sides. The greatest shock to 
the old ideas and ways being given by the French Re- 
volution. The costumes adopted by the sans culottes, 
the Communists of that day, though as utterly tasteless 
as any that could well be devised, yet embodied the 
principle of utility which has ever since held its ground 
in the costumes of men, and to a certain extent in 
those of women, though over the latter Fashion still 
reigns supreme, and concerning her it is only necessary 
to quote the words of Hazlitt : 

" Fashion," says this brilliant essayist, " constantly 
begins and ends in two things it abhors most — singu- 
larity and vulgarity. It is the perpetual setting up and 
then disowning a certain standard of taste, elegance and 
refinement, which has no other formation or authority 
than that it is the prevailing distraction of the moment ; 
which was yesterday ridiculous from its being new, and 
to-morrow will be odious from its being common. It 
is one of the most slight and insignificant of all things. 
It cannot be lasting, for it depends on the constant 
change and shifting of its own harlequin disguises ; it 
cannot be sterling, for, if it were, it could not depend 
on the breath of caprice ; it must be superficial to pro- 
duce its immediate effect on the gaping croM^d ; and 
frivolous to admit of its being assumed at pleasure by 
the number of those who affect to be in the fashion to 
be distinguished from the rest of the world. It is not 
anything in itself nor the sign of anything, but 



OUTLINE HISTORY OF COSTUME. 21 

the folly and vanity of those who rely upon it as their 
greatest pride and ornament. It takes the firmest hold 
of weak, flimsy, and narrow minds ; of those whose 
emptiness conceives of nothing excellent but what is 
thought so by others. That which is good for any- 
thing is the better for being widely diffused. But 
fashion is the abortive issue of vain ostentation and ex- 
clusive egotism ; it is haughty, trilling, affected, servile, 
despotic, mean and ambitious, precise and fantastical, 
all in a breath — tied to no rule, and bound to conforia 
to every rule of the minute." 



CHAPTER n. 

WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DRESSED. 

The standard of good dressing varies much — as we 
all know — in different parts of the world. The King 
of Waganda, for instance, thinks himself, and is fancied 
by his subjects, to be in the best possible array when 
attired in a white sheet and a necklace ; and the mon- 
arch of the Fiji Islands is radiant over the possession 
of a coat, regardless that he has no corresponding 
" nether garments ;" while the beautiful ex-Empress of 
the French could never have been better satisfied with 
her choicest toilette, than is the muddy-hued Queen of 
Otaheite, with her numerous strings of gay-colored 
beads, and the scanty folds of the not over-clean dra- 
pery she wraps about her hips. 

On account of this difference of opinion, it is well at 
the outset to define what we mean by dressing well. 

We certainly do not mean that to be well dressed it 
is necessary to be in the extreme of the mode ; nor 
that it is essential that a certain amount of money 
shall have been expended. We do not even mean that 
we think a person really well dressed, although in 
form, color and material the costume may be perfect, 
unless other elements are also taken into considera- 
tion. 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DRESSED. 23 

The Urst of these essentials we consider to be health. 
No person is well dressed who is not attired with 
reference to this. The prettiest muslin ever brought 
from India, made up in the latest style, and that most 
becoming to the wearer, loses all its prettiness if worn 
on an evening when a cashmere would be more com- 
fortable. The most beautiful lace mantle ever wrought 
in Chantilly, if worn in a December snow-storm would 
not look as well as a rough blanket shawl ; for all ob- 
servers would feel that the wearer was inviting a quick 
consumption. In these cases every one can recognize 
the sense of discomfort which would render the fine 
fabric less agreeable to the eye than the coarser ; but 
there are other violations of the laws of health, which, 
being more usual, would attract less observation. 

It is not our intention to preach a long sermon 
against tight lacing, for the woman who has drawn her 
waist into the meagre bounds admired by a perverted 
taste, (by the same process giving to her shoulders a 
most disproportionate size,) and who is thus every day 
violating her own constitution, and shocking artistic 
eyes, is incorrigible. If, after it has been proved time 
and time again, that sudden death is the not infrequent 
result of tight lacing, and that faihng this, a lifetime of 
suffering is the sure penalty, a woman will still persist 
in the practice, we suppose there is no help for her ; at 
least we feel sure that no words of ours will avail. If 
she will suffer, she will. But, in the name of the good 
sense she so defies, we adjure her not to imagine her- 
self well dressed ; for though her costume may be 
perfect in respect of color, material and fashion, it fails 
in the two important requisites,— healthfulncss and 
symmetry of form. 



24 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Said an elderly gentleman one day, " Where do the 
girls get such perverted notions of beauty ? Here were 
my own daughters, never were taught anything of that 
sort at home, but when they returned from school 
they were drawn up in packs of torturing bones, 
till they looked as pinched and starved as weasels. 
Couldn't walk forty rods without fainting ; couldn't 
take a long breath ; couldn't laugh ; couldn't do any- 
thing, but look as miserable as if they were on their way 
to the gallows ! I told the girls I'd disown 'em if they 
didn't take the things off ; and so they did, and soon 
looked like themselves again. But what in the world 
possessed 'em to deform themselves in that style in the 
lirst place ? Where did they get the notion ?" 

Poor, puzzled Fater-familias did not remember that 
he had just said his girls came home from sc/iOoZ encased 
in steel. The idea that a disproportionately small waist 
is beautiful, is one of the many immature and epidemic 
fancies of sweet sixteen. Once let it enter a school, 
and in spite of physiology, and the teachers, it spreads 
hke the measles. K a girl lives to be twenty years 
of age without falling into the practice of tight 
lacing, her innate good sense and taste may be trusted 
to prevent her ever doing so. But in this, as in other 
things, the bending of the twig has much to do with 
the inclination of the tree, and the taste once so per- 
verted that it discovers beauty in an unnaturally 
small waist, there is little hope of reform till when, too 
late to restore the lost symmetry, the vanished color, 
the elastic step, and the free respiration, the " doctor's 
orders " have banished the offending corset, and with it 
the heavy, dangling skirts which are its almost invari- 
able accompaniment. 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DBESSED. 25 

We do not like to say that a woman in a low-necked 
gown is never well dressed, for there are many 
women to whom the style is becoming, and a few to 
whom the absence of clothing about neck and arms is 
decidedly more comfortable than its presence. But to 
the majority, " full-dress " at the ball to-night signifies 
a wretched cold to-morrow ; and a frequent recurrence 
of such colds has a significance, the thought of which, 
if it were allowed to intrude itself, would not enhance 
the pleasures of the evening. 

As " constant dropping wears away rocks," we might 
hope for some improvement in the healthfulness of the 
fashion of dress, from the incessant squibs of the 
merry and the expostulations of the earnest, if only— 
the moment a slight impression is made — ingenious 
fashion did not whisk away the offending article, merely 
to substitute another equally dangerous and absurd, 
but diverse. 

Thus, in the days of our grandmothers, dehcate kid 
shppers were thought the only proper /oo^m^ for a lady, 
and in spite of threatening consumptions, they were 
worn in fair weather and in foul, upon chilly pavements 
or on muddy roads ; until, set upon by doctors and 
jokers, they were fairly scolded and hooted from the 
streets. 

Then we are allowed a thick, comfortable, high 
ankled shoe, with even the privilege of wearing a rub- 
ber overshoe in wet weather; and, congratulating 
themselves upon the victory of common sense over 
fashion, the doctors and jokers turn their remonstrances 
and jests in another direction, when— presto ! we have 
the thick shoe, to be sure, but mounted upon such a 
heel I And that heel brought forward tiD it presses di- 



26 HINTS ON DRESS. 

rectly under the tender hollow of the foot. And not 
only this, but after the poor foot has been forced to 
shift the duty of carrying the body from the heel, to 
which it rightfully belongs, upon the toes, which, at 
most, should only be considered as assistants, to do the 
Hght work, behold ! the toes are so tightly encased in 
their leathern prison that they have no room to act 
freely. 

Again, the grave and the merry have turned their 
shafts upon the foot-gear, and we wish them all success, 
but are sure that, if they attain it, the victory will be but 
transient. Fashion will soon intrench herself behind a 
new fortification of follies, or cunningly retire to an old, 
one long forgotten, there to laugh at her pursuers. 

If fashion's assailants achieve no more, they at least 
accomplish this : she is not allowed to kill all her vic- 
tims in the same way. If the thin slippers invited 
pneumonias, and the narrow quarters for the toes in- 
duce abundant and torturing corns, while the high heels 
are devoted to the extension of spinal complaints, or 
the more immediate danger of breaking the wearer's 
neck, there is at least a pleasing variety in the modes 
of assassination. 

But is it necessary that we should be thus tormented, 
and slowly murdered, in order to be well-dressed ? 
Scout the notion, all ye daughters of Good Taste I You 
know it is not. That, in fact, the ideas of pain and 
danger connected with these torturing fashions, destroy 
all the pleasure which the sight of an otherwise well- 
dressed women would afford. 

The second point which we would consider essential, 

is NEATNESS. 

So obvious is this that it might be supposed entirely 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DRESSED. 27 

superfluous to mention it, did not our eyes too often 
convince us that it is not always considered. 

We do not mean that the eyes of those who move m 
respectable circles are often offended by the absence of 
strictly personal cleanliness, though the writer has an 
unhappy recollection of once having been confined for a 
trip of two hundred miles in the same car-seat with a 
woman faultlessly attired, and — what was more surpris- 
ing — apparently of cultivated mind and manners, whose 
neck and ears had long felt the need of soap and water; 
but we often see much-be-draggied clothes worn by 
women who consider themselves entitled to be called 
ladies. But in whatever circle she may move, we feel 
certain that the woman cannot be self-respecting who 
can trail a long skirt across a muddy street, entailing 
not only the ruin of the dress, but the certain be- 
daubing of stockings and underclothes, with which the 
soiled petticoats must come in contact. 

And that there are many women thus unfortunately 
devoid of self-respect, the daily scenes in our streets 
assure us. Who cannot recall the sight of elegant 
velvet cloaks worn above dresses of costliest silk, the 
skirts of which have been trailed through mud and 
dust, till ornamented with a fringe not to be found for 
sale on Stewart's counters, and dyed of a nasty color 
hke nothing on earth but itself. 

Of course it is always conceded that a woman who 
can thus recklessly allow a dress to get in this condition, 
has but a short time enjoyed the privilege of dressing 
herself fashionably and expensively, and it is often sus- 
pected that a woman so destitute of delicate womanly 
instincts must be degTaded to the lowest moral level. 
But though we may charitably remember that some of 



28 HINTS ON DRESS. 

these are kind-hearted and well-meaning women, we 
know that they are destitute of refinement, and of com- 
mon sense, and the expressive terms " shoddy," or 
" petroleum," will involuntarily flash across our minds 
whenever we see one of these richly dressed, but be 
draggled women, who, whatever their wealth or their 
ambition may be, deserve no better name than that of 
" common slovens." 

Another point in which neatness is often offended, 
and by those, too, who would know better than to drag 
costly materials through the mire, is in wearing " ahout 
house" shabby finery, rather than neater and plainer 
dresses. There are many who seem to imagine that 
when wearing an antiquated, spotted, and even ragged 
silk, they are better dressed than when attired in some- 
thing that, though whole and clean, is of plainer fash- 
ion and material. Whereas there is nothing that so re- 
calls the sight of certain groups of three tarnished gilt 
balls, to be seen over sundry dingy windows on the 
Bowery ; and one cannot help wondering whether the 
woman wearing this mass of dilapidated flouncing, 
fringe, and lace, has just been fitted out at " her 
uncle's," or whether she is just about to proceed to his 
premises to dispose of the wretched assortment. Infi- 
nitely better does a woman clad in a simple, but fresh 
and tasteful calico, deserve the epithet, well-dressed, 
than one attired in the most expensive materials, if 
these by long use, or from any other cause, have become 
soiled or frayed. 

The same is true, in even greater degree, in regard to 
under-clothes. The most elaborate needlework only 
adds to the disgust one feels if the garments it adorns 
are begrimed or torn ; while those of plainest fashion, 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DKESSED. 29 

if clean and whole, or neatly mended, are always pleas- 
ing to the eye. 

Our third essential to good dressing is, becoming- 

NESS. 

One may be attired in the most healthful of costumes, 
and both person, and every article of clothing may be 
in the most spotless condition, and yet shock the eye of 
taste. 

To be well-dressed, one must always take into con- 
sideration the complexion, age, features, and figure of 
the wearer, and the harmony of the different parts of 
the costume. Thus the brunette cannot wear the deli- 
cate shades so beautiful for the blonde ; and the woman 
of sixty becomes ridiculous if tricked out with the flut- 
tering ribbons and bright colors appropriate at sixteen. 
Ther sylph who scarcely turns the scales at a hundred 
pounds, cannot carry the flowing mantles which have 
become necessary to obscure the too expansive outlines 
of the matron, whose position in a carriage is sufficient- 
ly indicated by the condition of the springs. The 
woman whose sharp, hatchet-like features seem fash- 
ioned to hew her way through the world, should not 
follow the Japanese style of hair-dressing ; nor should 
the woman whose head resembles a large red cabbage, 
dock herself in big butterfly bows of scarlet ribbon, a 
jaunty little round hat, and a chignon, emulating the 
proportions of the Rotunda of our National Capitol. 

Neither should there ever be a mixture of unconge- 
nial colors and materials. About color we shall speak 
again, and in regard to inharmonious materials it might 
seem unnecessary to say much, did we not know that 
this is a point frequently forgotten. Thus, who cannot 
remember having seen a rich silk trimmed with 



30 HINTS ON DRESS. 

guipure-lace, or even with a cheap imitation thereof ; or 
a heavy cashmere adorned with " real " Chantilly ; or 
a point-lace collar worn with a plain merino dress ? 

And this, too, not by people who are careless in mat- 
ters of dress, but by those who, from vanity or ostenta- 
tion, pay to it a good deal of misdirected attention. 
These are the persons who will wear a costly India 
shawl over a morning wrapper when taking an early 
drive in the Park, or undergoing the fatigues of a shop- 
ping excursion ; who will wear diamonds and a calico 
dress at breakfast ; and an expensive silk with lava pin 
and ear-rings at a dinner party ; who will don snowy 
ermine furs over a somewhat passee alpaca suit when 
attending to the family marketing, or a beautiful velvet 
cloak which cannot hide the kid gloves so soiled and 
worn that they would scarcely suffice to protect the 
hands of the housemaid while emptying the ashes 
from the grate ; who will wear a silk over-dress with 
a calico skirt, or an alpaca with a grenadine ; or who 
will mount a lace bonnet over a water-proof* cloak. 

Does any one fancy these to be imaginary cases of 
incongruity? We wish they were ; but they are all 
" studies from life," and a little observation at hotels, 
on steamboats and cars, and on the streets, even if the 
social circles each moves in do not afford such examples, 
will convince the incredulous that we have mentioned 
only a few of the most obvious violations of good taste 
in this respect. 

It is a good rule to wear at the same time only articles 
of a corresponding price, fineness of texture, and pre- 
sent condition. 

Then one will never be seen with an over-dress of 
Lyons velvet, and a skirt of serge; though both may be 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DRESSED. 31 

new, and the serge as good in its place as the velvet. 
Nor with a lace shawl over a cloth dress ; nor with an 
elegant new bonnet accompanied by an old and shabby 
wrap ; nor yet shall we attempt to make a " dowdy" 
dress look fresh by adorning it with bright new ribbons 
and neckties. 

Our fourth point, without attention to which we 
cannot be considered well dressed, is, what we can hon- 
estly AFFORD. 

So universal is the notion that " fine feathers make 
fine birds," that it is in too many cases forgotten that 
it is impossible for any to be considered well dressed, 
who have exceeded not merely the actual, but the pro- 
portionate limits of their purses. Thus, a woman who 
has an income of but $600 over the sum necessary for 
her board, even though she does not run a penny in 
debt, yet if she expends that amount upon her dress, 
has transgressed the rules of good taste. She who is 
attired in a more exi3ensive manner than her income 
will warrant, can never be well dressed. Good Sense 
and Good Taste are Siamese twins ; when the one is 
ignored the other is slighted ; when the one is wounded 
the other feels the hurt. And Good Sense imperatively 
demands that health, duty to others, the cultivation of 
the mind, and a provision for the future, should all be 
taken into consideration before the mere decoration of 
the person. 

In our land Good Taste — rudely treated though it is 
in so many ways — is probably not so often violated in 
any one thing as in this matter of disproportionate ex- 
pense. It is perhaps a natural, but not the less an un- 
fortunate result of the chaotic state of our society. The 
wives of " merchant-princes " fancy that, in order to 



32 HINTS ON DRESS. 

carry out the democratic " free and equal"' idea, they must 
emulate the attire of other Princesses, and not being 
" to the manner born," are very apt to over-do the 
matter, and wear on a toilsome round of shopping, or 
during a social evening at home, costumes which those 
they ignorantly strive to imitate would reserve for an 
" occasion of state," or for an appearance at an opera. 

These would-be Princesses of ours are not quite so 
fond of the "free-and-equal " idea as applied to those 
beneath them in what forms their standard of social 
importance, the possession of money. But the wife of 
the clerk expires with envy if she cannot wear as fine a 
dress as the wife of the senior partner in " the firm;" 
and as there is no sumptuary law to prevent her wear- 
ing anything she likes, and can procure, domestic com- 
fort, future independence, the education of her children, 
and her own mental improvement, are frequently all 
sacrified to obtain the coveted article of dress. 

This desire for mere richness of attire at such an 
expense of all that should make life valuable, is often a 
species of insanity, and is all the worse that it is ajDt to 
assume an epidemic form. This may be noticed espe- 
cially in our cities. Let a little church be started in 
some quiet street ; a church at which for awhile only 
plain people, devout worshippers of God, attend. By 
and by, from some reason, a " dressy " woman begins 
to frequent this humble church. It may be that she 
personally does not transgress our rule of dressing in 
proportion to her means, but to emulate her elegance of 
toilet would tax to the utmost the resources of those 
among whom she has just come. She may make no 
acquaintances among the congregation, but insensibly 
each feminine member of it gets to spending, week by 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DEESSED. 33 

week, a trifle more money and a good deal more thought 
on her attire, until finally the epidemic has become rag- 
ing, and scarce half a dozen of the original God-fearing 
assembly have escaped the contagion. 

The same result, though in a less marked degree, is 
often seen to follow the advent of a fashionable family 
into a quiet street. It becomes mortifying to Mrs. 
Smith, whose best winter suit is a cashmere, and most 
elegant summer costume a prettily trimmed black gre- 
nadine, to see Mrs. Brown passing up and down the 
steps, and sometimes appearing at the windows of the 
opposite house, clad in the loveliest of velvets and laces ; 
and especially mortifying, if Mr. Smith discovers that 
Mr. Brown's income is not larger than his own. Morti- 
fying, that is, if, as is too often the case, Mrs. Smith was 
educated to consider personal aj)pearance as of more 
value than her husband's reputation for honor and ho- 
nesty, or than her own for good sense and taste. 

That this envious sensibility to mere show should 
exist among persons otherwise sane, is incomprehen- 
sible, but the fact is patent. It is found in all classes, 
and is an evil only shaken off by the exertion of strong 
good sense and taste on the part of some, and of a re- 
ligious conviction of its wickedness on that of others. 

The-self supporting woman who receives a salary of 
$1,000, from which she must puj all her expenses, often 
ruins her health by taking very " cheap board," a term 
which impHes a deficiency both in quantity and quality 
of food, as well as the occupancy of a small but uncom- 
fortable room ; starves her mind by robbing it of its 
proper supply of good reading ; narrows her heart, be- 
cause she " cannot aftbrd " to increase its riches by 
sparing from her salary a little for those who are poorei- 



34 HINTS ON DRESS. 

than she ; and cheats her future by allowing her to 
save nothing " against a rainy day ;" all that she may 
have the means to dress in what is, after all, but a 
shabby imitation of the elegance of attire achieved by 
the object of her admiration, the cotton manufacturer's 
daughter. No one whose thoughts are given to this 
pursuit can grow mentally, and between the daily duties 
and the labors of " altering over," of trying to make old 
dresses " look as good as new," the time of our would- 
be butterfly is so taken up that she cannot spare any 
for the open-air exercise health demands, and before 
she is thirty years old the poor victim to false notions, 
instead of the fresh, vigorous, genial, intelligent person 
she should be, has become a faded, singular, wizened 
specimen of perverted womanhood. 

The same story repeats itself in every walk of life, 
the only exceptions being those who have emancipated 
themselves from the prevailing notion that the standard 
of taste and expense set by the very rich, must be fol- 
lowed as closely as possible by all. That it requires 
-some independence of mind to effect this emancipation 
cannot be denied ; but when effected, it brings its re- 
ward in many ways. One of these is that we are sure 
not to be made ridiculous by wearing humble imitations 
of unattainable elegances of toilet ; while we may al- 
ways be dressed comfortably, neatly, and becomingly, if 
we so choose, with tiie added satisfaction of knowing 
that we are wearing only what we can well afford, with- 
out detriment to any duty owed to ourselves or to 
others. 

The fifth point which we should consider, is, our 
station in life. 

In some respects this may seem to come under the 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DRESSED. 35 

preceding head, for in this country, unfortunately, social 
position is often determined by the number of thou- 
sands one possesses. 

But, happily, this is not always the case. There are 
instances where the ownership of enormous wealth will 
not secure an entree in good society, and other instances 
where poverty — if accompanied by brains and goodness 
— cannot exclude from its precincts. If society univer- 
sally deserved the name of " good," the matter of dollars 
would never make a breath of difference in the position 
of its members. Men and women would stand or fall 
in its estimation by reason of good or bad breeding, of 
kindness or unkindnesp, of intelligence or ignorance, of 
virtue or vice, of their promise for the future, or of what 
they have already nchieved. 

But as the vulgar tyranny of the " almighty dollar " 
is still endured even by many who inwardly revolt at it, 
it becomes necessary to state that when we say that 
one's station in life should be considered, we do not 
mean that because one is the luckless possessor of 
millions, without a corresponding education and 
' ' breedmg," we should think ourselves entitled to be 
decked with all the jewels of a monarch or the silks 
of the East. If the " Lily of Poverty Flat " has not 
the tastes and the cultivation which without her dollars 
would entitle her to a foremost place in the social ranks, 
she should not flourish about in the diamonds and the 
laces of a princess. To allow one's dress to outshine 
one's self, is in the very worst possible taste, and no 
lady will ever be guilty of the offence. Neatly and be- 
comingly attired one should wish to be at all times, but 
it is far better to have it remarked, " How plainly JVIrS: 



36 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Kobinson dresses," than, " How wretchedly over-dressed 
that Mrs. Jones always appears." 

In addition to the social distinctions made by wealth 
and cultivation, there are others, though but slightly 
defined, conferred by the " bread-winner's " calling, and 
by the length of time during which a family has been 
received into society. 

These distinctions, though acknowledged by all, are 
so vague that no rule can be given, save the ever safe 
one. In all cases prefer simple elegance to mere display. 
It is far better that the wife of our President should 
appear in a plain alpaca, than that the daughter of a 
Treasury-clerk should disport herself in velvets and 
diamonds. 

Our last point is, present occupation. 

By which we mean, not our profession or calling, but 
the business or pleasure in which we happen to be en- 
gaged at the moment. Thus, we would not appear at 
breakfast in the attire which would be suitable at din- 
ner ; nor at an evening party in the toilet we should 
wear when shopping ; nor at church in the costume in 
which we should appear at an opera. 

We have sometimes read, with mingled amusement 
and vexation, the fourth rate stories of fourth rate 
papers and magazines, wherein the heroine w^ho has 
suffered from a reverse of fortune, rising with com- 
mendable courage to meet her disasters and cheer her 
aged father and disconsolate husband, after their forced 
retirement to a small country place, has immediately 
commenced picking strawberries for breakfast, coming 
in from the garden with cool and smiling face, be- 
comingly set off by her spotless white muslin adorned 
with blue ribbons. 



WHAT IT IS TO BE WELL DKESSED. 37 

Now white muslin forms the coolest and freshest- 
looking of summer toilets, we all know; and we hope to 
live to see the day when shall be invented a fabric 
equally thin, soft and pure, with the additional advan- 
tages of being impenetrable to dew or rain, and as 
easily cleansed as varnished paint. But until that day 
comes we would advise white muslins to refrain from 
strawberry-beds ; especially when the dew is on the 
vines. 

Of course it is not to be suj)posed that any one be- 
sides these impossible heroines is ever absurd enough 
thus to attempt the strawberry and muslin feat, but 
other almost equally ridiculous examples of inappropri- 
ateness of dress can be seen any day. White petticoats, 
embroidered or ruffled to the last degree, are often worn 
for a dusty walk along a country road, or through a 
dewy lane in the moonlight, with but one inevitable re- 
sult ; fresh and spotless though they might be at the 
start, crumpled and dirty they must be in the end; 
causing to the wearer, if she be a neat woman, much 
open or concealed vexation of spirit. 

Other examples of inappropriateness of attire are 
sometimes furnished by a woman wh5 pays a visit, car- 
rying with her all her best apparel. The visit is to 
be but short, and both time and jjlace offer small room 
for the display of her wardrobe, but it must be shown. 
Consequently the poor victim to her own vanity changes 
her costume twice or thrice a day until all have been 
exhibited, fatiguing herself, and disgusting her friends, 
for no end but to make herself ridiculous to bystanders. 
Such a woman would wear a ball-dress at a funeral 
rather than not have it seen. Admired, even she, one 
would suppose, would know it could not be under cir- 



38 HINTS ON DRESS. 

cumstances so inappropriate ; for certainly a woman is 
never well-dressed when clad in out-of-place garments, 
no matter how beautiful they are in themselves, nor how 
becoming they may be to the face and figure of the 
wearer. 



CHAPTER III. 



THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 



Every woman should so arrange that her wardrobe 
may contain articles suitable for all the common 
uses of her life. For incidental uses she may in gene- 
ral safely trust to the insj)iration and the resources of 
the moment. What novels are to literature, what 
champagne is to daily food and drink, are occasional 
dresses to a woman's wardrobe. Of course if the whole 
life is of the novel and champagne order, the occasions 
requiring special and elegant dresses will be many, and 
should be provided for. But to the class of mental, 
moral and physical dyspeptics, who crave no diet save 
the light, brilliant, stimulating, and substanceless, we 
do not propose to address ourselves. It is only those 
whose lives have a meaning, who will profit by any 
suggestions we may have to make. Those women 
whose elevated aims in life, and devotion to objects of 
their love and duty, save them from the degradation of 
a slavery to vanity and ostentation, yet who, from 
the very refinement of nature and nobleness of mind 
which has given them their high purposes, and spirit 
of devotion to others, would desire always to wear the 
tasteful and the fitting. 

Of course in this httle chapter one cannot expect to 



40 HINTS ON DRESS. 

mention nearly all of the articles that many would 
think indispensable — for these vary with each individual 
— but we do not intend to include any that could pos- 
sibly be considered superfluities, and would head our 
list with underclothes. 

As the fashion of these is not material, one should 
always keep on hand a supply of plainly and neatly 
made and trimmed undergarments, that will prove suf- 
ficient for any emergency of accident or illness. All fine 
and expensive needlework on such articles will be 
shunned by women who regard both neatness and 
economy, for besides that these embroideries are costly 
luxuries in the first place, they are very quickly soiled 
and torn, and require frequent renewal. And they are 
no less expensive if wrought by the wearer's own 
hands ; but rather more so, for they consume much 
time that might be better spent. The httle leisure that 
occupied women have for fancy work, may be more 
profitably applied to making articles which will be less 
trying to the eyesight, and when completed will afi'ord 
more general pleasure. 

Of morning-dresses or business-suits there should 
always be a good, though not a very large supply. No 
half-worn finery can, or ought to take the place of these. 
Every woman needs business dresses just as much as 
her husband, father, or brother need their business 
coats. And as a woman's employments usually vary 
more than a man's, she requires a greater number of 
the suits, which should vary to fit her temporary occu- 
pation. Thus, the " house-mothers," or daughters, who 
have frequently to assume some of the duties of house- 
maid, or of cook, should keep constantly in readiness 
dresses suitable for the performance of those duties. 



THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 41 

The pretty calico, or delicate muslin morning dress, in 
which a lady would preside at the summer breakfast 
table ; or the alpaca, or French flannel wrapper, which 
look so comfortable on a winter's morning, might 
present anything but an attractive appearance after 
having been worn while cooking the breakfast. It is 
true one may, by aid of good luck, a big apron, and 
rolled-up sleeves, escape soiling the dress ; but the 
bottom of a spider that has just been lifted from the 
fire is apt to be black, and if, in moving it about, it 
comes in contact with the gown, the condition of the 
latter is not improved. Besides, tired hands are not 
always steady in their motions, and a coffee-pot may 
tip, or a gravy-boat may incline from a safe level with 
results disastrous. So it is safer, if one is occasionally 
obliged to play cook, to have two or three cooking- 
dresses. These should be of dark, and closely-figured 
calico — 7iot, as the oft-quoted " old-woman " said of the 
delft-tea-set, that it may " not show dirt " but that iron 
rust, fatal to all light cahcoes, — coming from no one 
knows where, — or equally fatal fruit stains — unremov- 
able save by acids quite likely to remove bits of the 
fabric at the same time, — may not render it old and 
soiled-looking on the first day of its use. In fashion 
these cooking or housemaid dresses should be as simple 
as possible ; flounces, tucks, folds or ruffles are all 
equally unendurable. 

The usual morning dress admits of some ornamenta- 
tion, but excess should be guarded against ; much 
trimming is not " in keeping," either on the gown, or the 
apron, which old-fashioned dress-protector will never 
be despised by neat women ; on the contrary they will 



42 HINTS ON DRESS. 

always endeavor to be fully supplied with an abundance 
of them. 

Every lady who lives in the country is, or should be, 
somethiug of a gardener. For this employment she 
will need a special costume, and nothing is so com- 
fortable and convenient as a dress of light woolen 
material, made with full trousers, loose waist, and skirt 
reaching a little below the knee, like the costumes worn 
in classes for calisthenics. The same style of dress 
is most appropriate for berrying expeditions and moun- 
tain-climbing, and for boating and fishing excursions. 

But home duties and enjoyments do not form the 
sum of life's employments for all women, and in the 
lives of many they are supplanted by occupations more 
nearly resembling those of their fathers and brothers. 
Women thus situated will need regular business suits. 
These should be of strong, serviceable material, quiet 
in color and but slightly trimmed. Shabby finery — al- 
ways detestable — is never more so than on the person 
of a self-supporting woman. But we do not necessarily 
mean that a dress of fine material may not be so re- 
modelled as to be suitable for a business dress. If of 
dark color, neatly kept, and all expensive or "fussy" trim- 
mings removed, a gown that has served its time as a " best 
dress," may be very becoming and suitable for daily use; 
or light colored all-wool materials may be dyed for 
this purpose. What we object to, is that when a dinner 
or an evening dress has become passee, its owner should 
don it " about house," or in her school-room, her office, 
her studio, or her shop, without fitting it for its new 
use. For, besides that the long skirt will speedily get 
frayed and soiled, and the flounces and ruchings, once 
so pretty, must soon share the same fate, and that the 



THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 43 

finery is now as out of date, as in its new surroundings 
it is out of taste, it is a very wasteful way. The dress 
re-made would last twice as long, and the trimmings, if 
of real lace, or handsome passementerie, or fringe, or 
velvet, might serve for another nice dress instead of being 
worn out in a service for which they are not adaj)ted. 

An old black silk, neatly remodelled, forms, perhaps, 
the most useful of all business dresses during cool 
weather. Next best are dark-colored silks, then the 
ever ready, long-suffering, black alpaca ; or, for very 
cold weather, a dress of dark, fine English fiannel or 
waterproof. For business use, in weather too warm for 
silks, we can recommend colored cambrics or linens, 
but only such as are so plainly made and trimmed 
that any Bridget can wash and iron them ; for no one 
can enjoy wearing a dress that will show the slightest 
spot or stain, when it cannot be made up without call- 
ing into requisition the services of a French laundress 
and incurring an expense of nearly one-third its first 
cost. 

In addition to business suits, one always needs one 
or two dresses that will answer for calls, for church, 
and for small evening gatherings. 

We know we are shocking the notions of many 
when we say but one or two of these, for is it not con- 
sidered essential that one shall never, or at least rarely, 
appear twice in the same dress, upon even the most in- 
formal occasions ? This may be. There are a great 
many foolish fancies in our world, and surely this is 
not least among them. But we are glad to know that 
there is a very large class who recognize that they 
are of more consequence than their dress, and that 
if the latter is in good taste, not too far past the style, 



44 HINTS ON DRESS. 

and in good preservation, it will bear being viewed 
many times in different or the same places. 

Among indispensable things we must of course num- 
ber an abundant supply of collars, and cuffs, or under- 
sleeves, of styles suitable to be worn with the various 
costumes. In general a set of these should not cost 
more than the price of one yard of the material of 
the dress with which it is intended to be worn, though 
there are exceptions where the dress-fabric, though 
not expensive, is so fine in texture that it will not be 
put out of countenance even by costly lace. 

Of pocket handkerchiefs one will need many of the 
commoner sorts, a few fine, and one or two for " dress 
occasions. " 

Of well-chosen neck- ties, sashes, and head-dresses, or 
ribbons, but a small number will be needed at one 
time, and Fashion, which changes so incessantly in 
all things, is especially fickle in these small arti- 
cles. 

Of hats or bonnets, one suitable to wear with the 
" best dress," and another to accompany the business 
suits, are all that are essential for each season of six 
months. Neither of these should be of more than one 
quarter the cost of the material of the gown with which 
each will be most worn, and very frequently need not 
reach an eighth, but this will depend much upon the 
taste and ingenuity of the maker. 

A good supply of gloves is also requisite, but it 
is not essential that they should all be of French kid. 
Gloves are frequently a disproportionate item of expense 
with those who think no cheaper glove than kid will 
answer the purpose, even when engaged in ordinary 
business pursuits, as these are very easily soiled. It 



THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 45 

should be remembered that the only essential point 
— for any excepting dress occasions — is, that the hands 
be protected from soil, or sun, by neat-fitting and well- 
kept gloves, whether of Lisle thread, silk, dog-skin, or 
kid. 

The same thing is true of shoes and boots. While it 
is necessary that they be whole, and of good color and 
fit, it is not important that they be of the latest 
fashion or most costly material. 

In addition to the white skirts which are included 
under the head of underclothes, a thick and dark- 
colored skirt will be essential for winter use, and one 
of lighter material and shade for summer wear ; unless 
one desires to employ a special laundress, and even 
then not be able to present an example of perfect 
neatness. 

Among things that may be considered indispensable, 
we may include two warm and serviceable winter 
cloaks — one suitable to wear when calling, attending 
concerts, lectures, etc., and the other intended to be 
worn with the business dresses. Then there is the 
ugly, but never-to-be-despised waterproof, for wet- 
weather walks, and a soft, warm, shawl or wrap, for the 
sunny, but cool, days of spring or fall. In addition to 
these, it is desirable to possess a lace shawl for day- 
time wear in summer, and indoor evening use in win- 
ter. 

In the matter of travelling dresses, we cannot do 
better than to quote the hints given by Miss Trafton, 
in her "American Girl Abroad," in regard to an outfit 
for the voyage across the Atlantic, and subsequent trip 
through Europe. The advice is equally applicable to 
long or short trips in our own country. None but in- 



46 HINTS ON DEESS. 

experienced travellers are ever seen in the perfectly 
fresh dresses made purposely for the trip, which is 
to them a grand event, demanding special and exten- 
sive preparations. And no woman of taste will ever 
appear in cars, or in stage, on steamer or steamboat, or 
at wayside inn, clad in the laces and velvets appropri- 
ate only for the drawing-room or the concert-hall. 

Miss Trafton says, " It is as well to start with but 
one dress besides the one you wear on the steamer. 
These two dresses may be anything you chance to 
have ; a black alpaca, or half-worn black silk is very 
serviceable. When you reach Paris," (or any large 
town on the route you take, whether in this country or 
in Europe,) circumstances and the season will govern 
your purchases ; and this same silk or alpaca dress 
will be almost a necesBity for constant railway journeys, 
rainy-day sight-seeing, etc. A little care and brushing, 
fresh linen, and a pretty neck-tie will make it present- 
able — if not more — at any hotel dinner-table." .... 
" Take as many wraps as you please, and then you will 
wish you had one more. A large shawl, or, better still, 
a carriage robe, is indispensable. In your valise you 
will have — in addition to two entire changes of under- 
clothes — warm flannels, thick gloves or mittens, as 
pretty a hood as you choose " — for steamer use or night 
travel — "a pair of comfortable slippers, quantities 
of merino stockings, and a double gown or woolen 
wrapper in which you may sleep," whether on an ocean 
steamer, or on dry mountain heights, where blankets 
are not apt to be as plenty as the supply of fresh air is 
abundant. An umbrella, rubbers, and small work-box, 
containing needles, thread, scissors, etc., etc., complete 
this list of travellino: essentials. 



THINGS INDISPENSABLE. 47 

The woolen wrapper spoken of above will not only 
*^e found useful when travelling ; it is an essential part 
of every woman's wardrobe, for all are called at times to 
fill the chair of the convalescent, or that of the wearied 
night-watcher, and in both cases there is nothing so 
comfortable, though in very warm weather a calico 
"double gown " may take its place. 



CHAPTER IV. 



HINTS ABOUT COLOR AND FORM. 



If we could imagine a world where was light, but no 
color, how dreary and desolate would it appear to us ! 
A world in mourning. 

Yet there are persons, with good eyesight, so desti- 
tute of what phrenologists call the organ of color, that 
they are afflicted with " color-blindness." This is not 
always entire (its victims being sometimes able to dis- 
tinguish yellow and blue), but so nearly so that they 
lose all the beautiful effects of color, both in nature and 
in art. To them there is no variation in the tints of a 
landscape, save the degrees of light and shade ; and 
their ideas of the becoming and tasteful in dress are 
limited to form and fashion. 

To this blindness — much more general than is com- 
monly supposed — are probably due many of the taste- 
less combinations in dress which constantly offend the 
eyes of those sensitive to color ; while others are 
owing to a lack of education in this particular, cr to 
carelessness. 

" The eye," for form and proportion has, in general, 
received more cultivation, the daily exigencies of life 
calling more imperatively for its exercise ; but often it 
is only applied to the merely useful, leaving the beau- 
tiful out of view. 



COLOR AND FORM. 49 

Of course there are higher uses for the faculties 
called Color and Form, than that of dres;^, if this is con- 
sidered simply as a matter of vanity. But this it should 
never be. A love of the beautiful, for its own sake, will 
require us to pay attention to it, in costume, as in other 
things ; though it will not demand that we study dress 
as a fine art. That would make of it a pursuit too en- 
grossing for a life so short, and so full of earnestness 
and purpose as ours should be. 

In regard to color and form, we can offer only hints, 
but such as we hope will assist those who desire to 
dress becomingly, without devoting to the subject time 
and thought which should be directed elsewhere. 

Every child is taught that " there are but three primi- 
tive colors — red, blue, and yellow ; that compounded in 
various proportions, either in twos, or all three together, 
these three colors produce every hue in nature, and in 
art ; every tint that is physically possible. First, when 
combined in twos, they produce the three secondary 
colors — that is to say, blue and red make purple or 
violet ;. yellow and red, orange ; blue amd yellow, green. 
The greys and browns, again, are compounds of all 
three of the primary colors, in unequal and varying 
proportions. 

*' Complementary colors are the colors or color which, 
with any color or colors mentioned, make up the three 
primary colors, which constitute white light. Thus, if 
the given color be a primitive, its complementary is 
composed of the other two primitive colors ; e. g., the 
complementary of blue is orange, compounded of red 
and yellow. Again, if the given color be a secondary, 
its complementary is the remaining primitive color 



50 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Thus, the complementary of green — compounded oi 
blue and yellow — is red. 

" Contrast of color is either simple or compound. 
Each of the primitive colors forms a simple contrast to 
the other two. Thus, blue forms a simple contrast to 
red and yellow. But if red and yellow be mixed to- 
gether, the complementary color will be produced ; viz., 
orange, which is the most powerful contrast that can be 
made to blue." 

But this slight, and merely verbal knowledge of the 
first principles of color, will not help us to attain har- 
mony, or proper contrasts in dress, unless the eye be 
cultivated by observation of the effects produced by 
certain combinations of color, both in nature and in 
art. Thus, orange and blue, though in such decided 
and beautiful contrast in their proper place, would form 
a sufficiently grotesque looking head-dress for maid or 
matron, blonde or brunette ; while red and yellow, so 
effective in upholstery — at least those shades which 
have received the more euphonious names of crimson 
and gold — are, in combination, abandoned in dress to 
the British army, to the Indian and the African. 

It is universally understood that the same tints can- 
not be worn by brunettes and blondes, but it is popu- 
larly supposed that there are certain complexions " so 
perfect that they can wear any color. " This, like most 
popular notions, has a measure of truth in it ; that is, 
there are some complexions so clear, and so nicely 
balanced between the extremes, that they can wear 
certain shades of the more decided colors appropriate 
for the dark or the fair, but they can wear the positive 
colors of neither. For instance, while maize-color is 
very becoming to a clear, gipsy -like complexion, a deli- 



COLOR AND FORM. 51 

cate buff is the nearest approach to it which should be 
adopted by the beauty who is neither dark nor fair; and 
while she may wear a bright and decided blue, she 
should not venture upon the pale shades of that color, 
so charming for her golden- haired sister. 

The colors of the dress should always harmonize with 
the complexion, as this harmonizes with eyes and hair. 
An artist would not paint the warm hues of an Italian 
sky above a frowning scene of desolate glacier or ice- 
berg, nor hang the dull clouds of a December evening 
over the vivid verdure of the tropics ; so, in the lesser 
art of dress, the tone of person and attire should not be 
at variance. Who can imagine Cleopatra arrayed in 
the cool tints in which Hypatia looked so grandly 
beautiful ? Or where would have been the pure charm 
of the latter's presence if she had decked herself in the 
glowing hues of Cleopatra's wardrobe ? 

The vivid, warm brunette, must wear colors like her- 
self. Cool neutrality should be as foreign to her dress 
as it is to her person and character. To her nearly all 
of the dark, but bright shades, of red, yellow, and blue, 
are suitable ; so are warm browns, and white — if 
" picked out " with some one of the bright colors she 
affects ; and black, if not worn in solid mass as in deep 
mourning, but relieved with abundance of white, or 
with bright colors, is also becoming. 

As years increase upon the brunette she will be 
forced to retire mainly to the warm shades of brown, 
and to black and white, for with age she loses her vivid- 
ness of coloring ; and the briglit hues which enhanced 
her charms in youth, may now increase the appearance 
of sallowness. But let her never adopt the cold imis 



52 HINTS ON DRESt 

at any period of her life. In youth they are incon- 
gruous, in age they are ghastly. 

For the pure blonde, with golden hair, blue eyes and 
fairest skin, there is a more limited choice of color, and 
a wider of tints. That is, of the primitive colors, blue 
— and that must not be dark — is the* only one she can 
wear ; but the endless delicate shades of purple, green, 
lilac, lavender, drab, and grey, afford her a wide range. 
She may also indulge in very delicate (not faded) 
pink, but let her bewa.re lest it have any suspi- 
cion of redness ; just as she must be careful lest the 
green she chooses should have no perceptible tinge of 
yellow. 

But even the shades of these colors which she can 
wear in youth must be abandoned in age. Blue can 
be retained longer, but after fifty it is safest to trust only 
to the cool neutral tints affected by the " Friends," and 
to the ever unobjectionable black and white. 

In speaking of what brunettes and blondes may wear, 
we have had reference to those whose complexions are 
good of their kind ; but there are many who, from ill 
health, or untimety exposures in uncongenial climates, 
have acquired complexions that range through all the 
gradations of sallowness and pimpledness from the 
simply not good, to the positively bad. 

While such persons can wear in general the same 
colors that they would affect if their complexions were 
perfect of their kind, the shades should be much 
softened in tone. The bright scarlet becoming to the 
brunette, through whose clear cheeks a healthy color 
comes and goes, must — when years or illness have altered 
the complexion — be changed to a softer and less distinct 
shade; and maize-color must be abandoned altogether. 



OOLOB AND FORM. 53 

And so, the blonde whose cheeks have lost their first 
loveliness of hue, must wear her blues and pinks of milder 
tints than she would once have preferred. While those 
who have badly " pimpled " skins, whether dark or light, 
should never wear solid colors very near the face. The 
flowers in their bonnets should be small and mixed, the 
ribbons should be shaded, and the dresses of fine striped 
checks, or plaids, or small mixed figures. These, by 
giving a slightly broken appearance to the whole cos- 
tume, and avoiding the bad efi:ect of a strong contrast 
between the mottled condition of the skin and a plain 
body of color in the dress, will always soften the defect, 
and sometimes render it almost invisible. 

But as a means of making the already beautiful seem 
more so, and rendering the ugly less so, there is 
nothing — after a good selection of colors — that will 
equal the effect of soft, fine lace, worn about face, neck, 
and hands. This may be " real lace," worth more than 
its weight in gold ; or it may be simple " illusion," light 
as vanity, and as cheap. Its properties are the same. 
Black laces do not jDOSsess them in as great a degree as 
the white, but a mixture of the two is sometimes very 
desirable, especially in the case of brunettes whose hair 
has begun to silver. 

Black and white, we are often told, can be worn by 
any one. This is true ; yet there are degrees of be- 
comingness even here. We have yet to see the person 
to whom thick, dead black, unrelieved by a glimpse of 
white about throat and vvrists, is becoming. Yet we 
often hear it remarked, and probably with truth, that 
"Mrs. So-and-so looks better in her deep mourning 
than she was ever known to do before." In such in- 
stances we are almost sure to find that Mrs. So-and-so 



54 HINTS ON DRESS. 

is a woman of poor taste, one of the sort who will 
wear orange and yellow, or blue and purple, or scarlet 
and crimson together, or all six at once, and admire the 
effect. Of course in such a case even the dead 
black is an improvement. Semi-transparent black, re- 
lieved with white lace about throat and wrists, and en- 
livened by a becoming bow at the throat, is always in 
good taste. 

So are thin, white muslins, or any semi-transparent 
white material, whether with or without the addition of 
touches of color. But opaque white materials as 
pique, alpaca, or silk, are trying to all complexions. 
None but the clearest, whether brunettes or blondes, 
should attempt to wear them. 

It is a common error that persons with very pale 
complexions should wear pink, or some one of the many 
shades of red, to impart color. The real effect is quite 
the reverse ; the different shades cast corresponding 
shades of yellow, and from simple pallor the com- 
plexion is changed to a decidedly sallow hue. Yellow 
should also be avoided by those whose cheeks are des- 
titute of natural roses, as it casts a blue reflection, and 
gives to the face it surrounds, a ghastly look. Blue, 
on the contrary, casts a pink light, and in some one of 
its many dark shades for brunettes, and light shades 
for blondes, is the prettiest of the primitive, as green 
is of the secondary colors, for pale and clear com- 
plexions. 

From this it must not be inferred that pink is a suit- 
able color for those with unnaturally red faces. The 
yellow reflection it casts is not strong enough to mate- 
rially affect them, and the contrast of pink and fiery 
red is anything but agreeable to the eye. 



COLOR AND FORM. 55 

It should be fully understood that at all ages, and 
with any complexion, many colors at one time are to be 
avoided. As a rule, two colors are enough for one cos- 
tume, though several shades of the same color are ad- 
missible, if they are properly blended together. Thus, 
a pale blue head-ribbon, worn with a dark blue neck- 
tie, would be in bad taste ; while combined in each, the 
shades might be so blended that the effect would be 
pleasing. 

The trimmings of a dress should be either of the 
same shade as itself, or a little darker, or of black. 
Black trimmed with white, or with some color, is the 
sole exception to this rule, and even in this case the 
effect is too striking to please for any length of time. 
Contrasted trimmings, like appropriate shades of blue, 
or rose color, upon a delicate shade of drab or grey, 
are often effective, but should not be adopted for any but 
house dresses. 

In trimming a dress with a darker shade of its own 
color, care ehould be taken that the difference of tint be 
not too marked. In browns and greys the difference 
may be more decided, but with blues, greens, etc., great 
care should be exercised. In these the shades of the 
trimming and of the dress should never be more than 
two degrees, and it is better if they are but one degree 
apart. When a dress of one of the primary or second- 
ary colors is thus shaded in the trimming, the bows for 
hair and neck should exactly match the several shades 
of the dress, or be of black or white lace. 

If the dress is one of the neutral tints — those formed 
by a mixture of all three of the primitives — the ribbons 
may be of any prettily contrasting tint that is brighter 
than the dress. Thus, blue or pink forms a pretty con- 



56 HINTS ON DRESS. 

trast for drab or grey ; but the blue or the pink must 
be bright and clear : the first must not be purplish, nor 
the second reddish. 

In selecting the two shades, or colors, for a costume, 
care should be taken that the larger portion be of 
the quieter tint. Thus, a dress of dark blue is relieved 
by a neck-tie of delicate pink ; but a pink dress would 
be ruined by pinning a blue bow at the throat. Or, a 
dress of violet color — almost the only dark hue becom- 
ing to a blonde — would be enlivened by a throat knot of 
the creamy tint we find in the " Souvenir de Malmaison " 
rose ; but a gown of the latter shade worn with violet 
bows would disfigure Venus herself. 

It should be borne in mind that a color should never 
be worn simply because it is pretty in itself. One is 
often tempted in these days of " lovely new shades " — 
to buy without reference to becomingness. It is so dif- 
ficult to imagine that the mauve so pretty in the shop, 
may give to the dark or thick complexioned wearer, the 
unenticing hue of a thunder-cloud ; or, that the " new 
shade of pink " requires to be worn only near a fresh, 
young face. 

In saying that, as a rule, more than two colors in one 
costume were to be avoided, we did not mean that the 
flowers in a bonnet, hat, or head-dress must be of one 
of these colors, though they should be such as will con- 
trast pleasantly. Neither did we mean that each cos- 
tume should have its own set of jewelry ; though it 
would be in bad taste to wear corals with a pink dress, 
or turquoise ornaments on one of dark blue, or of 
purple. But with the exceptions of flowers or jewelry, 
all the minor accessories of dress — such as gloves, 
parasol and fan — if not of black or white, should be of 



COLOR AND FORM. 57 

one of the two colors that form the costume. If this is 
not practicable, these articles should be of that neutral 
tint that agrees best with the whole. 

Gaily colored wraps are sometimes very effective if 
worn over black or white, or one of the neutral tints, 
but should rarely be ventured over a dress of one of 
the primary or secondary colors : a failure in such a 
case would be too glaring. 

In regard to form, Fashion — proverbially careless of 
the beautiful — has so much of her own fitful way, that 
it seems like a Partingtonian attempt at staying the 
waves of the sea, to say a word in defence of Nature's 
models. Yet useless as it appears we will venture a few 
hints about the Ways in which we may best approach 
those models without offence to Nature's sensitive rival. 

A very tall woman should avoid high heels, high hats, 
striped dresses, and closely confined hair. If slender 
she may indulge in as much flouncing, and puffing, and 
ruching, as Fashion requires, or her own sense of what 
is fitting will permit. In the street she may wear 
ample shawls — heavy or light, as she chooses — or if her 
figure is well made she may wear the tight-fitting 
basque or polonaise, always providing it is cut as long 
and as full-skirted as the style will admit ; but she will 
never wear a short sacque. 

A very stout woman, even though tall, will eschew all 
trimming excepting lace or ribbons, or material that may 
be laid on plain, or in flat plaits, or gathered with but 
little fullness : she will never wear the close fittinsf 
basque or polonaise and will always — when her occupa- 
tions will permit — whether in-doors or out, wear some 
kind of light and soft, but opaque, shawl or wrap. In 
fact a half fitting basque or sacque, or a light drapery, 



0» HINTS ON DRESS. 

is essential to any woman who is disproportionately 
fleshy, whether she be tall or short ; though in the lat- 
ter case the folds of the mantle should not be too ample. 

Persons of this style of figure are frequently too con- 
scious of the defect, and, thinking to render it less pro- 
minent, will wear only clothes of the tightest fit. But 
the contrary should be their course ; for though any- 
thing airy and fluttering would be out of taste, the 
simple drapery of a shawl or wrap, or best of all, the 
half fitting sacque, by shading the outlines, and prevent- 
ing observers from discerning the exact contour, will im- 
part grace to a figure that might otherwise seem awk- 
ward and unwieldy. 

White, or very light colors, should never be worn by 
women who are too fleshy, they so greatly increase 
the apparent size : nor should very narrow stripes, for 
these, while they increase the effect of height, also add 
to that of breadth. Large plaids are inadmissible, 
though small checks and plaids are sometimes becom- 
ing. Bright colors, even if dark, should be avoided as 
too noticeable ; and so should heavy thick materials, as 
those which require a good deal of starch. Black, or 
nearly black, grenadines, alpacas, cashmeres, and soft 
lustreless silks, are the most becoming dress goods for 
these figures. Hoops — when in fashion — should be 
worn no larger than is necessary to fully hide the out- 
lines of the form ; and paniers should never be worn by 
very stout women, whatever the fashion may be. They 
should also avoid all puffings and flouncings, excepting 
on the lower part of the dress skirt, being especially shy 
of them about the hips. 

Women who are both short and slight, can best wear 
close fitting garments, and a good deal of trimming if 



COLOR AND FORM. 69 

not of a heavy kind. In fact nothing about them 
should be heavy : from the bonnet to the shoe, all 
should be light in texture and in fashion, and frequently 
in color. And, whatever the prevailing style may be, 
their garments should never be too large, giving 
the impression that they are wearing clothes not made 
for them. Little women can rarely carry to advan- 
tage any shawl heavier than one of lace, and should 
also forever abjure big bows, big sashes, big flowers, 
big hoops, big paniers, and more hair than belongs to 
them by right of nature. 

The woman who is tall and slender, may have a 
stately elegance of figure, or be angular and stiff ; one 
%vho is tall and fleshy may have a commanding presence, 
or be ponderously awkward ; and one who is short and 
stout may move herself with a genial, motherly grace, 
or with an unwieldy waddle ; while one who is short 
and slight, may have a twitching, overloaded air, or a 
light, graceful motion ; each result depending very 
much upon the style of dress, and the amount of com- 
fort it secures to the wearer. Discomfort is the death 
of ease under all circumstances ; and ease of manner 
and carriage is the first essential to grace. 

In regard to a gradual change in the colors, we must 
wear as age creeps over us, we have already spoken ; 
but perhaps it will not be amiss to repeat the remark of 
" Kitty Trevylan's " sprightly cousin : 

" When you are forty-five, for pity's sake recognize 
the fact!" 

Not by a neglect of dress, a hopeless and careless 
settling down into a slovenly old age ; nor by a sombre 
dullness of coloring, and a severe destitution of trim- 
ming, but by adopting that pleasantest of aU tones — 



60 HINTS ON DKESS. 

after the first, bright morning hours of hfe have passed 
— a subdued cheerfulness, which is best produced by 
black and white, and by warm browns, and cool greys, 
and drabs. To these we all must, or should, come at 
last ; though by reason of a remarkable freshness of 
complexion, some are able to postpone the day longer 
than most. 

As a rule the dress material we use should increa,sein 
richness as it decreases in brightness, and the costume 
becomes more simple in fashion. A woman who has 
passed the boundary line of the fifties, sacrifices her 
dignity, without gaining in grace or elegance, by con- 
forming to every passing whim of " the mode" and a 
dress of rich Lyon's silk, made and trimmed simply, is 
in better taste, though in a style antedating the pre- 
sent by several years, than would be one of poorer 
fabric, cut, and fussed into the last agony of the day. 

Lace is beautiful and becoming at all ages, but it is 
essential to the dress of every woman over forty years 
of age who desires to dress becomingly. Falls or 
ruches of fine lace do so much to soften and shade 
roughnesses of complexion, and harshness of outline. 

Of course no woman who respects herself, and has 
any appreciation of the beautiful and fitting, will dye 
her hair. It is far better that snowy locks should crown 
a young and fair face, than that one where " bloat " 
and pimples, or wrinkles and sallowness, contend for 
the mastery, should be rendered painfully grotesque by 
the harsh contrast with stiffened puffs or bands of shiny 
brown, or jetty black hair. In fact, grey hair is a won- 
derful softener of the defective complexions which 
often accompany age, and should be cherished, rather 
than shunned. 



COLOR AND FORM. 61 

From the days of Homer to those of Longfellow, hair 
has been considered by all persons of taste as the " glory 
of a woman," her " crown of beauty." But Fashion — 
tasteless goddess of caprice — has meddled and marred 
more with this than with any other one thing. Is it 
not about time that each should begin to study what 
style of hair-dressing is most becoming to her face, and 
to adopt it ? Declaring that she will not be Japanesed 
unless that style chances to suit her features, and that 
she will not wear three or four pounds more of hair 
than nature intended any one woman to possess. 

Why should the hair of blonde and brunette, the tall 
and the short, the stout and the thin, the sharp-faced 
and the thin-faced, the regular featured and the snub- 
nosed, the old and the young, the beautiful and the 
ugly, be drawn tightly back, or raised over cushions, or 
puffed into wings, or tied in bags, or hung in braids, or 
wound in coils, or tormented into corkscrew curls, or 
crimped, or laid preternaturally smooth with " bando- 
hnes " and pomades, or allowed to swing like a horse's 
mane, or be bound like a wet towel about the head ; or 
built into a pyramid, or rounded into a cannon ball, 
all as by one impulse ? What business has Fashion to 
meddle with the hair ? And why should a woman with 
a spark of individuality — to say nothing of taste — sub- 
mit for one moment to Fashion's senseless and arbitrary 
decrees, in a matter upon which depends so much of 
the pleasure she can give to the eyes of others ? 

We do not " pause for a reply" — not expecting any — 
but pause in indignation at the cowardice that has so 
long permitted woman to be shorn of one of her chief 
beauties. 

Lucky is it for us that Fashion can't meddle much with 



62 HINTS ON DBESS. 

our eyes! If she could, she would have had them 
turned inside out, or set in the middle of the forehead, 
or the sides of the nose, long ago. 



CHAPTER V. 



ESTIMATES OF COST. 



Why will not women keep accounts ? 

Not once, nor twice, but more than one hundred times 
have we asked this question, since we began to collect 
from our friends, and the fi'iends of our friends, the 
material for this chapter. We had supposed that it 
would be, comparatively, an easy matter to gather such 
material, for we did not propose to extend our inquiries 
into the regions where Fashion and Profusion reign, 
and we imagined that women to whom life presented 
more important objects, would, at least, be sufficiently 
methodical and business-like to keep a record of their 
personal expenditures. But, no, whatever may be the 
cause, we find that a woman who keeps a daily record 
of her expenses is a phenomenon, even among self-sup- 
porting women, who we should suppose would natu- 
rally feel the utility, even the necessity, of the prac- 
tice. 

It has, therefore, been with difficulty that we have 
obtained the following varied tables of the yearly cost 
of the dress of ladies moving in those select but com- 
paratively quiet circles, where mind, morals, and man- 
ners are considered of higher value than mere monied 
wealth. 



64: HINTS ON DKESS. 

These tables represent very effective results, and serve 
to prove our repeated assertions that a lady's wardrobe 
need not entail the extravagant outlay too often ima- 
gined essential, in order to enable its owner to be tho- 
roughly well-dressed. 

We commence our tables of annual expense with the 
one smallest in amount, which is given by a middle- 
aged married lady occupying a business position in New 
York city. It presents only the average annual cost of 
her dress — $100 — without entering upon details which 
would have been desirable. This amount does not in-p 
elude the cost of making any portion of the wardrobe. 

Our first detailed table is that of a self-supporting 
young unmarried lady, residing six months of the year 
in a large city, who is her own milliner, dress-maker, 
and plain sempstress. 

Dress material $44.50 

*' trimming and linings 13.85 

Shoes 9.75 

Gloves 6.25 

MilHnery 12.81 

Lingerie 10.00 

Hosiery and flannels 13.00 

Cufts, collars and handkerchiefs 7.32 

Neck-ties, etc 6.00 

Sundries 7.00 

Total for one year $130.48 

The second table is that of a young unmarried lady, 
residing during most of the year in a quiet, country 
place. This does not include cost of making any por- 
tion of the wardrobe. 

Dress material $61.40 

" trimmings and linings 17.40 



ESTIMATES OF COST. 00 

Shoes 15.25 

Gloves 9.30 

Millinery 10.00 

Lingerie 8.00 

Hosiery and flannels 12 .00 

Cuffs, collars and handkerchiefs 3.00 

Neck-ties, etc 4.00 

Sundries 10.00 

Total for one year $150.35 

The third table is that of a young lady living in the 
country nine months of the year, passing three months 
in the city. This includes but a small portion of the 
cost of dress making, and we find no mention of hosiery 
or flannels. 

Dress material $76.42 

" trimming 27.79 

•' making 5.00 

Millinery 15.75 

Shoes 14.50 

Lingerie 8.00 

Gloves 10.00 

Sundries 28.00 

Total for one year $185.46 

The fourth table, which covers two years, is furnished 
by a young married lady with children, residing in the 
country, a very short distance out of New York city. 

Dress material, trimming and making $212.00 

Lingerie 22.00 

Corsets and covers 6.00 

Hosiery and flannels 10.00 

Balmoral skirts 15.00 

Shoes 25.00 

Gloves 20.00 



66 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Collars, cufifs and hankercliiefs 10.00 

Millinery 40.00 

Sundries 15.00 

Total for two years $375.00 

Oar fifth table is that of a young unmarried lady, 
Uving in a large city, and doing most of her own 
sewing. 



material $64.10 

" making 13.50 

*• trimming 14.00 

Shoes 28.00 

Millinery 22.00 

Lingerie and hosiery 40.00 

Gloves — nine pairs 18.00 

Sundries 10.00 

Total for one year $209.60 

The sixth table we are able to furnish is that of a 
young lady occupying an editorial position on a pro- 
minent weekly, and living ten months of the year in 
New York city. It includes cost of making. 

Dress material, trimming and making $105.00 

Lingerie 20.00 

Hosiery and flannel 16.00 

Balmoral skirts 7.00 

Corsets, hoops, etc 13.00 

Shoes 20.00 

Gloves 12.00 

Collars, cuflfs and handkerchiefs 8.00 

Ribbons, neck-ties, etc 6.00 

Millinery 20.00 

Sundries 10.00 

Total for one year $237.00 

The seventh table is given us by a young unmarried 



ESTIMATES OF COST. 67 

lady residing in a large city, and holding a business 
position. 

Dress material, making and trimming $140.00 

Shoes 40.00 

Millinery 15.00 

Lingerie and hosiery 20.00 

Eibbons, etc 10.00 

Collars, cuffs and handkerchiefs 10.00 

Gloves 20.00 

Total for one year $255.00 

Our eighth table of expenditure is that of a married 
lady, with children, keeping house in the city eight 
months in the year, hving on a fixed income. 

Dress material, including cloaks, etc $106.35 

♦♦ trimming 56.00 

♦' making 34.00 

Millinery 32.22 

Shoes 13.00 

Lingerie 15.50 

Gloves 8.00 

Sundries 47.00 

Expense for average year $312.07 

The ninth table is furnished by a young mar- 
ried lady, with a small, independent income, living 
in a large city. As this lady does mucn of her own 
sewing, but httle of the cost of making \» k^^Jude'l be- 
low. 

Dress material , $x6'^60 

•' trimming 30.50 

" making 18.00 

Shoes 24.00 

Millinery .... 36.00 

Lingerie 20.00 

Gloves 13.50 



68 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Collars, cuflfs and handkerchiefs 8.00 

Balmoral 5.00 

Sundries 18.00 



Total for one year $335.60 

The tenth estimate is that of a married lady with 
children, keeping house for nine months of the year in 
a large city. 

Dress material $170.00 

" making 87.00 

♦« trimming 99.00 

Millinery 20.00 

Shoes 12.00 

Lingerie 9.00 

Gloves 12.00 

Sundries 20.00 

Total for one year $429.00 

The eleventli statement is that of a young married 
lady, keeping house in a large city, and not obliged to 
consider very closely the question of economy. 

Dress material, trimming and making $295,00 

Shoes 40.00 

Millinery 20.00 

Lingerie 20.00 

Eibbons, etc 20.00 

Collars, cuffs and handkerchiefs 20.00 

Gloves 40.00 

Total for one year $455.00 

Our twelfth and highest estimate is furnished by a 
married lady, without children, living in apartments in 
the city during eight months of the yeax. 

Dress material $126.00 

" trimming 107.00 

" making 141.00 



J 



1SSTIMAT£:S OP COST. 59 

Shoes 24.00 

Millinery 24.00 

Lingerie 20.00 

Gloves 7.35 

Sundries 30.00 

Total for one year $479.35 

It will be observed that in but one of the foregoing es- 
timates is any mention made of cloaks or shawls. This 
is partly because the fashion of wearing suits has been 
so prevalent of late, and thus the sacques, etc., are in- 
cluded under the head of dresses ; and in part because 
as cloaks, and shawls are expected to do duty for years, 
it would not be right to estimate them under the ordi- 
nary annual expenses. 

In a few of the estimates the cost of the dresses seems 
very small, for any one occupying a good position in 
society, but it should be rememered that many wo- 
men, by reason of neatness and care, can make a dress 
last for a great while. With such a woman dresses are 
apt to accumulate, and she finds it inadvisable to add 
many gowns to her wardrobe, while she has on hand 
those which, with a little remodelling, will answer aU 
the ends of dress. 

What may be a reasonable amount of money to de- 
vote to dress, of course depends upon the amount of . 
one's income, and a woman with a salary of $1,000 per 
year, from which to pay all expenses, should not desire 
to vie with one who has $5,000, though the former will 
be obhged to apply a larger proportion of her slender 
funds to the purpose than the one who is better en- 
dowed with worldly goods ; for — however much we 
may desire it — it is impossible to dress respectably 
upon the sum popularly known as " little or nothing." 



70 HINTS ON DRESS. 

It is perhaps safe to say that the cost of the clothes we 
wear should never exceed that of our board, and by 
dint of neatness, and of careful re-makings, the amount 
may be a good deal less without compelling the wearer 
to appear in shabby or tasteless attire. 

The wife or daughter of a small farmer, of a trades- 
man, or of a small salaried clerk, or of a clergyman, 
would consider as an unjustifiable extravagance the 
same sum that her self-supporting sister, with a salary 
of $1,500 for her sole use, would think allowable ; and 
rightly so, for in the first case, plain but pretty calicoes 
and muslins, merinos and alpacas, would prove suf- 
ficiently handsome dress materials, and the lady herself 
may very probably be able to make them up neatly. Be- 
sides, the number and price of " little things " need not 
be as great as in the case of a salaried woman, whose 
daily duties throw her into competition with others. 
We have known women whose plain, but neat and 
tasteful dressing, quite fine enough for the position they 
filled, did not cost them more than $75.00 per year. 

Ui3ward on the scale of costliness, we can proceed to 
an almost limitless height. The number and expense 
of articles of dress which " must be had," enlarging in 
exact proportion as a woman's mind and heart grow 
smaller and more selfish. 

Much observation and a good deal of inquiry, have 
convinced us that with all the great outcry against the 
extravagance of women in matters of dress, there are 
comparatively few who do not willingly conform their 
desires to the hmits of their husband's purses, when 
they once know what those limits are. Still, there are 
some who, though really unable, are anxious to vie with 
Mrs. So-and-so, and in order to supply deficiency of 



ESTIMATES OF COST. 71 

money, they become wasteful, almost wickedly wasteful, 
of their time and strength, in cutting, making, altering, 
and " fussing " old dresses to make them look like new. 
By this labor $250 may be made to go as far as, and 
produce as good a result as $500, but the saving thus 
effected may entail a loss of double its amount by ruin- 
ing, or at least seriously injuring, a woman's mental or 
physical health ; and it would be well if in estimating 
the cost of such and such a dress, or wardrobe, the 
sum of side-ache, head-ache, and back-ache, which ac- 
companied and succeeded its preparation, and the 
amount of the physician's bills, and the loss to her 
family of the care and time which the mother or daugh- 
ter should have devoted to it, were reckoned in. For 
there is in these things, besides the actual suffering, an 
outlay of money which makes an equal, if not greater, 
drain on the family purse than would the $500 laid out 
on the dress in the hrst place. 

But quite often we find that it is not the fault of the 
wife or daughter that a disproportionate amount of the 
income of husband or father is expended upon her 
dress. The masculine half of humanity is not so su- 
perior to the allurements of vanity as it would have us 
believe, and as the improved taste of the age has declared 
that men of sense shall not indulge in gay attire, they 
often seek to gratify their innate love of show by 
urging their wives or daughters to extravagant outlays. 
For instance, we know a hard-working clerk who re- 
ceives a salary of $2,000 per year, who has had his hfe 
insured as a provision for his wife in case of his de- 
cease, boards in small quarters in the fourth story of 
a fine looking house, spends but a moderate amount on 
his own dress, and devotes every cent he can spare 



72 HINTS ON DRESS. 

from these expenses to his wife's dress. His wife 
meanwhile getting all the discredit due for extrava- 
gance, of which the poor thing would gladly be guilt- 
less. 



CHAPTER VI. 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 



From the heading of this chapter it must not be 
imagined that in telhng how to buy, we mean to give 
any instructions in regard to the art of making " won- 
derful bargains.*' In fact, we have no faith in that sort 
of thing. It is true that sometimes accidents may 
throw good bargains in one's way, but the hunter for 
them is, the course of years, almost sure to pay for 
damaged, shop worn, or ill-made articles, more money 
than it would have cost to purchase those of best qual- 
ity from reliable dealers. 

Our ideas of how to buy may be comprised in a few 
simple sentences. 

First, never buy in haste. When we rush into a store 
to buy " some sort " of a dress, or cloak, or shawl, to 
meet a present emergency, without having previously ex- 
amined the different styles of goods, and fully consid- 
ered which will be the best suited to the purpose, we 
often make purchases which we have reason to regret. 
The goods which look so pretty when a novelty on the 
counter, may be very tiresome and inappropriate when 
looked at day after day in the simple surroundings of 
home. Or, the quahty which seemed good when we 
did not compare it with others, may prove to be poor. 
Or, though the articles we have bought may be both 



74 HINTS ON DRESS. 

pretty and of good qiiality, they may not suit our pur- 
poses as well as some other might have done that we 
did not see until after our purchase was made. In 
short, when we " buy in haste " we may often " repent at 
our leisure." 

But this does not imply that we are to sit four or five 
hours before a counter, making the clerks pull down 
quantities of goods for which we have no use, before we 
can make our decision. On the contrary, we should 
have determined, before we enter a store, whether we 
wish a dress of silk or of grenadine, of cashmere or of 
calico, and then asking only for that variety of goods, 
proceed to make the wisest selection in our power, with 
as little trouble as possible to the clerks. 

A second point is not to be persuaded into making pur- 
chases contrary to our own opinions. We each know our 
own circumstances better than others can do, and 
though the advice of merchant, clerk, or friend, may be 
perfectly disinterested, and should not be slightingly 
regarded, it cannot be implicitly followed. For instance, 
the salesman may be right when he assures us that an 
article costing five dollars per yard is handsomer and 
more durable than one of the same sort at three dollars; 
but we may know that the latter sum is the highest we 
can afford to pay, and that for the purpose we have in 
view the goods at that price will be as valuable as the 
more expensive quality. 

A third point is, that use, rather than show, should 
ever be considered. Thus, in selecting a black silk, 
while we may admire for its weight, softness, and beau- 
tiful finish a very high-priced " Bonnet," suitable only 
for house and carriage wear, we should not be tempted 
to buy it in place of a " Ponson " of less larice and 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 75 

slightly less attractive appearance, which will be hand- 
some enough for our indoor uses, and more durable as 
a walking suit. 

What we shall buy, is a question involving much 
more detail. 

In a general way we can say that it is always more 
economical to purchase material, good of its kindy no 
matter how plain or how cheap that kind may be. If we 
cannot aiford a good cashmere at $3.50 to $4.00 per 
yard, we would do better to purchase some other mate- 
rial, such as all-wool twilled serge, at 75 cents per yard, 
which, if not quite as wide, nor as rich looking when 
new, will cut to nearly as good advantage, and will 
wear much better than a second or third rate cash- 
mere. 

Having determined upon the kind of goods we wish 
to buy, whether silk or serge, cloth or cambric, our 
next move is to decide which variety of these will be 
best for our uses. 

To assist in this decision we have been at much pains 
to obtain accurate information in regard to the prices, 
and the best quahties of different sorts of dry goods. 
Of course it would be impossible, even if it were desir- 
able, to give anything like a complete priced-list of the 
different dress goods, for each season brings with it 
novelties to be tested. But there are some articles 
which have stood the test of time, and it is such only 
that a woman of moderate means should purchase ; she 
cannot afford experiments. 

For all seasons and occasions no style of goods has 
been such a universal favorite as the time-honored 
black silk. No lady feels that her wardrobe is complete 
without at least one of these dresses, and yet, as 



76 HINTS ON DRESS. 

scarcely anything is more disappointing than a poor ar- 
ticle of this kind, the art of selecting the silk becomes 
a desirable accomplishment. 

The most elegant black silk, for house or carriage 
wear, is the " Antwerp," from one yard to forty inches 
wide. But as it is the richest, it is naturally the most 
costly, and varies in price from $9.50 to $12.50 per 
yard. Its increased width over that of other gros- 
grain silks is not in proportion to the access of cost, 
neither does it wear enough better to pay for the dif- 
ference in price, and only those who can afford extrava- 
gance should indulge in this style of silk. 

Bonnet's silks — rank as next finest in quality. 
These are twenty inches wide, and vary in price 
according to weight and "finish,'* from $2.75 to 
$8.00 per yard. The lower priced are too light for 
much service, while the higher, though beautifully 
finished, are so heavy and closely woven that they are 
liable to break, and on account of a tendency to hold 
dust, should never be used for walking dresses. For 
the latter purpose the medium qualities, lettered G, H, 
I, and J, ranging from $4.50 to $5.50 per yard, are the 
best of the Bonnet silks. But for ail purposes where 
both a handsome and a useful dress is desired, the 
Ponson silks are the best of all the gros-grains. They 
are twenty-four inches wide and range in price from 
$2.25 to $5.50 per yard. The best grades for service 
being those at $3.50 to $4.50 per yard. 

The American black silks, manufactured by the 
Cheney Bros., twenty-four inches wide, and varying 
in price from $2.00 to $2.75, are very serviceable — much 
more so than those at the same price from the French 
looms, but they lack the latter's fine finish. 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 77 

For summer wear, taffetas, or high lustre silks, take 
precedence of gros-grains, as, though equally strong, 
they are lighter and more easily kept free from dust. 
The best of these are " the Tiellard " which range from 
$2.75 to $5.50 per yard, those at $3.00 and $3.50 being 
as serviceable as the higher priced. Next to these 
rank the Ponson taffetas, of which there are but two 
grades, at $2.00 and $2.50 per yard. There are also 
" half-lustre Pon son's," a useful quality which mingles 
some of the characteristics of both gros-grains and 
taffetas, and is sold at $3.00 per yard. AU the above 
are twenty-two inches wide. 

Plaiu-colored silks, twenty-four inches wide, range in 
price from $2.50 to $6.00 x^er yard, but, as in the case 
of the black silks, the highest price is not always the 
best for use ; the quality sold at $3.00 being recommen- 
ded as the most serviceable. But it should be remem- 
bered that a " new shade " will bring from twenty-five 
to fifty cents per yard more than established colors in 
the same gxade of silk. 

"Lyons taffetas," better known as " summer silks," 
woven in checks, stripes, and chenes, eighteen inches 
wide, are all of one grade, but range in price from $1.00 
to $1.90 per yard, according to the fashionableness of 
the style. For instance, the hair-stripe, that a year ago 
brought $1.75 per yard is now sold for $1.25 ; and the 
chene that to-da^; brings $1.90, in a year or two may 
probably be offered at from $1.00 to $1.25. 

Pongee-silks, only found in light shades, are twentj^- 
seven inches in width, and are sold at $1.00 per yard, 
for a quality that wrinkles easily, to $1.50 and $2.00 for 
a better quality, that can be washed like a French calico. 
But this is not a very high recommendation for silks of 



78 HINTS ON DRESS. 

any sort, for though they can be restored to cleanliness, 
they can never regain their first gloss. 

Foulard silks, twenty-seven inches wide, soft, and 
comparatively durable, are sold at $1.50 per yard. These 
silks are also recommended as washable, but though 
not ruined, they are not improved by the process, and 
they spot so very easily that the light colors are sure to 
need some renovating process after having been worn 
even a short time. 

Japanese silks — made of silk and linen — range in 
price from seventy-five cents per yard for a quality 
which looks well at first, but soon becomes crumpled 
and shabby-looking, to $1.75, for a grade which is said 
to do excellent service. They are only eighteen inches 
wide. 

Undressed, silks, which come in all colors, and are 
durable, can be recommended for evening wear. This 
sort is twenty- two inches wide, and varies in price from 
$1.00 to $2.00 per yard. 

Pirn's Irish poplins, resembling gros-grain silk, but 
softer, twenty-four inches wide, are $2.25 for the 
best quality. Colored Irish poplins are prettier than 
black, though the latter bears a strong resemblance to 
American black silks. The Lyons, or French poplin, 
twenty inches wide, sold at $1.25 per yard, is liable to 
shrink if exposed to wet, and is very easily crumpled. 
It may readily be distinguished from the Irish poplins 
by the latter fact. 

In black and plain colored dress goods for autumn, 
winter, and spring use, we have a range of prices, from 
fifty cents per yard for the soft hanging and compara- 
tively serviceable all-wool delaine, to $4.50 per yard, 
for the finest cashmere, forty-seven inches in width, or 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 79 

$4.00 for the lieavj, but soft and durable, " ladies'-cloth," 
sixty-four inches wide. 

Within this range we find, among the hght and cheap 
goods which have been tested, chaUies, twenty-four 
inches wide, which wear well, and are pretty, but crease 
easily, at seventy-five cents per yard. Twilled-pongees, 
of about the same width, which wear as well, and do 
not crease, at eighty-five cents per yard. A silk and 
wool serge, thirty inches wide, which wears well, but 
only comes in light shades, at from $1.50 to $1.85 per 
3 ard. Pongee poplins, twenty-seven inches wide, which 
are very durable, but are only found in a few shades, 
which, in the plain goods, are mixed to produce a 
changeable effect, as steel-grey and purple, grey and 
brown, etc., at $1.15 per yard. Another quahty of this 
goods, which looks as well, and is offered at sixty-five 
cents per j'ard, crumples so as to become almost useless 
if worn out of doors in damp weather. Cretonne- 
cloths, of the same width as all-wool delaines, and 
much hke it, but heavier, and found only in light colors, 
are sold at seventy-five cents per yard. All wool serge, 
twenty-seven inches wide, found only in dark colors, 
brings about the same price. 

Merinod — about one yard wide — vary through all 
colors and degrees of fineness, from ninety cents to 
$2.00 per yard. Some of the coarser grades will be 
found as durable as the finer, if not quite as pretty. 

Of cashmeres, forty inches wide, those costing $4.50 
per yard are better worth buying — if we can afford 
one at all — than the lower grades which come at all 
prices, from $1.25 per yard upwards. The qualities 
sold at $2.50 to $3.00 will last as long as the fashion in 
which they are at first made, and for persons who do 



80 HINTS ON DRESS. 

not care to have dresses " made over," this will be suf- 
ficient. But the best quality of all-wool-satine, found 
in all dark colors, twenty-eight inches wide, which has 
a fine glossy appearance, and will answer all useful 
purposes nearly as well as the finest cashmere, is much 
cheaper, the highest price being $1.75 per yard. A sort 
called French-satine, offered at $1.15 per yard, comes 
only in brown and grey, one side being grey, the other 
brown ; this is not very pretty, and . becomes rough 
after being worn a little. 

Parisian cloth, twenty-seven inches wide, is a very 
durable and nice-looking article, especially adapted for 
walking suits, found in black and all dark colors, which 
varies in price from seventy-five cents to $1.50 per yard. 
The difference in price is caused by difference in quality 
rather than in looks. 

Biarritz-cloth is one of the very prettiest of the win- 
ter dress goods ; warm, soft, and light, found in all the 
dark colors, and has the important additional recom- 
mendation of durability. The width — forty inches — is 
one that usually cuts to advantage ; price $1.50 per 
yard for best quality. 

All-wool reps, which comes in all the dark shades, is 
a soft and handsome style of goods, thirty-two inches 
wide, varying in price from 75 cents to $1.75 per yard; 
the latter grade is said to " wear well." 

Silk-faced velours is a heavy and not particularly 
beautiful article, with a linen back, and, as the name 
implies, a silk face. It is said to be durable, but is 
probably less so than most of the varieties we have 
named. In price it ranges from $1.50 to $2.00 per 
yard, and is twenty-eight inches wide. 

All-wool velours, found in black and all the dark 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 81 

colors, is one of the best cheap winter goods we have, 
being twenty-seven inches wide and very durable for its 
price, which is only fifty cents per yard. 

Empress cloths are so well known that they need no 
recommendation. They are found in black, and all the 
dark colors, varying in width from twenty-eight to forty 
inches, and correspondingly in price from sixty cents to 
$1.25 per yard. 

Three sorts of serge, called the imperial, the plain 
twisted, and the all-wool, thirty inches wide, form strong 
and useful winter and fall dresses, in all dark colors, 
varying in price from seventy- five to ninety-five cents 
per yard ; but they soon become rough, though other- 
wise durable. 

Of heavy cloths, adapted for suits, there are three 
varieties tound in black and in colors. 

First, the tricot, one yard and a half wide, and sold at 
from $2.00 to $2.50 per yard, that at $2.25 being as dur- 
able as that at $2.50, but not quite as nicely finished. 
Tricots are only found in black and a few of the more 
sober colors. 

Second, the ladies' cloths, which are handsomer an^ 
more expensive than the tricots, but do not wear any 
better. They are found in black, in all shades of brown 
and grey, in a bright scarlet, and in a few dark shades 
of green, maroon, blue and purple. The two kist are 
very pretty, but apt to fade. The width is the same in 
all — one and a half yard — but the price varies accord- 
ing to weight, fineness and color, from $1.75 to $4.00 
per yard ; those at the former price differing but 
slightly, if at all, from the finer sorts of colored flan- 
nels. The bright colors are twenty-five cents per yard 
more than the more sober hues. 



82 HINTS ON DRESS. 

The third sort of cloth of which suits are sometimes 
made, is waterproof. This — same width of above — it 
of both EngUsh and American manufacture, and varies 
in price from $1.25 per yard, for that which is chiefly 
cotton and does not pay for the making up, to the besfc 
EngHsh all-wool at $3.50 per yard. A serviceable grade 
is found at $2.50. None of these cloths mnke suitable 
dresses ior any but the coldest weather. 

Of the heavy dress materials which come only in 
black, we find, first, bombazine, one yard wide, of both 
French and English manufacture, the latter being as 
much better than the former as it is more costly. They 
vary in price from $1.75 to $3.50 per yard. Second, 
Henrietta-doth, or silk-warp cashmere, a very beautiful 
style of goods, forty inches in width, from $1.50 to $2.50 
per yard — the latter grade being proportionately more 
serviceable than the former. Third, drap-d ete, most 
worn for light sacques, but handsome and very service- 
able for suits, forty-eight inches wide and varying in 
price from $2.25 to $4.00 per yard. That at about $3.00 
ig a durable quality, but not as fine and handsome as 
the higher priced. Fourth, barathea, formerly known 
as Turin cloth. This is a nice-looking style of goods 
with wool face and cotton back. The genuine is re- 
commended for its durability, but there are several 
sorts, all to the uninitiated eye looking much alike, 
but some not being worth the trouble of making up. 
TJiey are from fifty to seventy-five cents per yard, and 
are thirty-eight inches wide. Fifth, is a crepe-cloth, 
often used for dresses, but more suitable for light 
sacques, and for trimming in deep mourning on dresses 
subject to such severe use that English crape would 
soon become too shabby. It varies, according to 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 83 

quality, from forty to seventy-five cents per yard, and 
is thirty-two inches wide. 

"We now come to the most universally serviceable of 
all the woolen materials — the alpacas. Not too fine for 
every-day business wear, yet always nice looking, easily 
kept clean, and, if of good quality, exceedingly durable. 
The best of all the alpacas are the brillantines or Ara- 
bian lustre. These range at from 75 cents to $1.50 per 
yard, but as is the case in some other styles of goods, 
that at the highest price is not the most serviceable, for 
what it gains in fineness and gloss it loses in strength. 
The grades sold at from $1.00 to $1.25 will be found 
most durable. Next in value to the brillantines, come the 
demi-lustre alpacas, at from sixty-five cents to $1.25 per 
yard ; and last and least the mohair lustre at from 
sixty-five to eighty-five cents per yard. All alpacas are 
about thirty inches wide. 

Black English crape for veils comes in two widths, 
one yard and a quarter, and one yard ; and of several 
qualities, from that sold at $1.50 per yard to that at 
$8.50 ; those at $6.00 and $7.00 being equally service- 
able if not quite as heavy as those above these prices. 
Trimming crapes of the same quaHties are found in 
narrower widths, and vary from $3.00 to $6.00 per yard. 
Those at $4.50 and $5.00 being sufficiently good for all 
useful x^urposes. 

In striped woolen dress goods, alike on both sides, we 
have the pretty and serviceable, all-wool Pongee-poplins, 
twenty-seven inches wide, at $1.15 and $1.35 per yard. 
Yak-cloths of the same width, w^iich are durable, but 
only found in greys and browns, or with black and 
white stripes, at sixty cents per yard. Of lighter mate- 
rials we have wash-poplin, an excellent wool and cotton 



84 HINTS ON DRESS. 

stuff, twenty-seven inches wide, at thirty-eight centa 
per yard, and cram, a new material, said to be dm able, 
of the same width as above, at thirty cents per yard. 

Of striped worsted goods, not alike on both sides, we 
lind classed as durable, a pongee-poplin, twenty-eight 
inches wide, at $1.25 per yard ; a pongee-serge — which 
comes only in grey and black, and grey and brown — 
same width as above, at $1.50 per yard, and a washable 
mohair, twenty-two inches wide, at twenty-eight cents 
per yard. 

Of Plaids, now mostly used for children, there are 
plain and crepe gloss popUns, thirty-two inches wide, at 
sixty cents per yard ; a mohair plaid — black and white 
— thirty-two inches wdde, and fifty cents per yard, which 
washes well ; an all-wool serge, in bright colors, one and 
a half yards wide, at $1.50 per yard ; and a grenadine 
poplin, twenty-two inches wide, which comes only in 
light colors, but it will answer for one seasons' wear, 
and is only fifteen and eighteen cents per yard. It 
will not bear washing. 

For morning wrappers we find gaily figured all-wool 
cashmeres, one yard wide, at $1.25 per yard, and robes 
of the same material sold in patterns of fifteen yards 
each, forty inches wide, at from $12.00 to $25.00 ; 
those at the first price are not considered durable. 

For summer wrappers, chambretta, a sort of figured 
barege, one yard wide, comes at forty-five cents per yard. 
For very cold weather, there are plaid and plain flan- 
nels, varying in width from twenty-seven to fifty-four 
inches, and in price from seventy-five cents to $1.75 per 
yard. Flannels of the Assobet, Lawrence, and Camden 
mills are considered the best. 

For daily or exceptional use in late spring and early 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 85 

autumn, and on cool daj^s in summer, from their dara- 
bility, beauty, auvi universal adaptability, black grena- 
dines have achieved a high and permanent position 
among dress goods. There are different sorts of gre- 
nadines, some of which, found both in plain black, and 
striped with colors, are flimsy mixtures of silk, wool and 
cotton, or silk and cotton, and are not worth the mo- 
derate price they cost — from twenty-five cents to $1.00 
per yard — to say nothing of the trouble of making, for 
they " muss " and fade very easily, scarcely lasting half a 
season even with careful treatment. The varieties 
which have obtained most favor have been the iron — 
all-wool, twenty-four inches wide $2.00 per yard, or the 
same, two yards wide at $6.00 per yard ; and the sewing 
silk, twenty-two inches wide, at $2.50 per yard. This 
last is almost imperishable, and is always pretty. A 
flowered black silk grenadine is used for polonaises and 
over-dresses, with very much the effect of beautiful 
black lace. This is very strong, is twenty-two inches 
wide, and varies in price from $2.75 to $3.50 per yard. 
Another sort — also durable — is of the same width, has 
round satin spots of various sizes, and costs from $2.25 
to $2.50 per yard. A grenadine-barege — silk and wool 
— twenty-two inches wide, which is finer and less 
durable than the iron, though quite serviceable, is sold at 
$1. 00 per yard. A coarse sort of cotton and wool, which 
does not tear easily, though it fades soon, twenty-two 
inches wide, is sold as low as sixty-five cents per yard. 

Nearly all the varieties of plain colored goods we have 
mentioned are found in plain white as well. 

In muslins, organdies, white and colored, and Swiss, 
with or without white or colored embroidered figures, 
maintain their old position. The fine Frencli organ- 



86 HINTS ON DRESS. 

dies, sixty-eight inclies wide, at $1.75 per yard, being 
considered the very best " laundry goods," among the 
semi-transparent varieties. Swiss mushn varies in 
price from that thirty-two inches wide, sold for Hnings 
at eighteen cents per yard, to the finest, forty-two 
inches in width, costing $1.00 per yard. 

French nansooks are of two kinds, both forty- 
eight inches in width, the "heavy," sold at from fifty 
cents to $1.30 per yard, and the "sheer" — a beautiful 
sort — at from fifty cents to $1.18 per yard. Eng- 
lish nansook, thirty-nine inches wide, varies in pro- 
portion to its fineness, from thirty-two cents to $1.10, 
and English mull — not so popular now as formerly — 
thirty-four inches wide, at from thirty to seventy-five 
cents per yard. 

Victoria-lawn — the sort most used for suits — forty- 
two inches wide, varies from eighteen to eighty cents 
per yard, that at forty cents being a very serviceable 
quality. A new sort of muslin called French-grenadine, 
which washes well, and is very pretty for polonaises 
and evening dresses, is forty-four inches wide, and 
costs from forty-five to ninety cents per yard. 

The well-known piques, useful for many purposes, 
but heavy to wear, and the terror of laundresses, are 
thirty- four inches wide, and vary in price from twenty 
cents per yard for the poorer quality of plain rib or 
spot, to $1.75 per yard for the ribbed canton flannel- 
backed pique, with an embroidered sprig, nice for the 
winter dresses of the wee-toddlers whom their doting 
mammas dislike to see in anything but white. 

Oriental check is a very nice white material for morn- 
ing dresses, which does not lose the pretty satin gloss of 
its checks or stripes by constant washing, is thirty-inches 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 87 

wide, and costs from twenty-seven to forty-eight cents 
per yard. 

Tucked white muslins, for children's dresses, or for 
trimming, are of two kinds, those in which the tucks are 
stitched, and those in which they are woven. The 
latter look quite as well, are more durable and cost less, 
ranging from ninety-five cents to $1.50 per yard, while 
the stitched are sold at from $1.25 to $2.00 per yard. 
French revere, woven in alternate stripes of very nar- 
row tucks, and open work like satin stitch, is pretty for 
yokes and trimmings ; it is about thirty inches wide, 
and sold at from $1.75 to $2.00 per yard. 

Among the calicoes, the French, at forty to fifty cents 
per yard, and the English, twenty-seven inches wide, at 
twenty and twenty-five cents per yard, are called the 
best ; though American cambrics, thirty-two inches 
wide, at from twenty to twenty-five cents per yard, are 
very good and usually prettier than the others. English 
cretonne is a thick and good variety of this style of 
goods, twenty-seven inches in width, at twenty-five cents 
per yard. French batiste is a very pretty, soft-finished 
cambric, thirty-two inches wide, at thirty-five cents per 
yard. Chamberies, pretty and washable, but not dur- 
able, are about twenty-seven inches wide, and are sold 
at from ten to eighteen cents per yard. 

Scotch ginghams, though not very pretty, and some- 
times apt to fade, form perhaps the most serviceable of 
dresses for ladies when engaged in household occupa- 
tions, or for children allowed to play, as children should, 
in the fields, or on the sands, where white, or the prettier 
and more delicate cambrics, would soon be ruined. These 
are from twenty-seven to thirty-six inches wide, and cost 
from thii'ty to thirty-five cents per yard. Cotton satine 



Ob HINTS ON DRESS. 

is a remarkably pretty style of cotton goods, in plain 
colors, with — as the name implies — a satin finish on one 
side, which is not lost by washing. This costs from 
thirty to forty-five cents per yard, and is thirty-two 
inches wide. 

Striped and checked percales are one yard wide, sold 
at from twenty-five to forty-five cents per yard ; these 
are pretty and good, but not as serviceable as some 
other varieties of similar xorice. Striped linens, which 
are both pretty and strong, are thirty- two inches wide, 
and sold at from sixty-five cents to $1. 00 per yard. They 
are not, however, very economical fabrics to bay, for 
they are as easily spoiled by fruit stains and bad wash- 
ing, as cambrics at but half their price. 

From calico to velvet seems an abrupt transition, yet 
before descending to the underwear, we wish to speak 
of cloakings, and naturally give the first place to the 
most elegant, expensive, durable, and always fashionable 
of the materials. Perhaps, after a low grade of black 
silk, nothing is more unsatisfactory than a poor quality 
of velvet ; for any sort is too costly for one of moderate 
means to afford, unless it will wear long enough to com- 
pensate for the first outlay. This the cheap varieties 
will not do. It is more economical to pay $14.00 per 
yard for an article that will look well for years, than 
$11.00 for one that will look brown or threadbare after 
a season or two. 

The most costly style of black cloaking velvet is that 
known as the " Peerless," which comes in two widths, 
that of thirty-two inches, which is sold at $20.00 
per yard ; and that of twenty-eight inches, at $16.00 per 
yard. The former does not cut to sufficiently better 
advantage to pay for the difference in price. The 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 



89 



quality of velvet most highly recommended for service 
is the Ponson, thirt^^-two inches wide, $16.00 pei yard ; 
and twenty-eight inches wide, costing, in black, $14. 00 
per yard, and colors, $16.00. The next grade of velvet 
is the " Colard," that thirty-two inches wide being 
$16.00 per yard, and that twenty-eight inches broad 
$13.00 per yard. The "Pelissier," the lightest of the 
all-silk velvets, comes only of one width — twenty-eight 
inches — and costs $11.00 per yard. 

German velvets, twenty-eight inches wide, with cot- 
ton-back, bring from $5.00 to $10.00 per yard. These 
are never handsome, and soon become worthless. 

Velveteen, heavy and undesirable, though often ser- 
viceable, ranges from twenty-two to twenty-eight inches 
in width, and in cost from seventy-five cents to $2.50 
per yard. 

Whether or not one owns a velvet cloak, one must 
have a cloak of a material which will be suitable on occa- 
sions when velvet would be out of place. For this pur- 
pose there are many fancy cloths, but plain, handsome 
beaver cloth is more durable, both in fashion and 
fabric. This ranges in price from $5.00 to $6.50, the 
latter quality being as superior to the others in dur- 
ability as in finish. 

Seal-skm and Astrakan cloaks are handsome, but are 
so warm that it is almost dangerous to change to one 
of light cloth or velvet, though they become uncomfort- 
able on many of the mild days which even our winters 
sometimes bring. These fur cloaks are also very Hable 
to destruction by moths. Cloaks of the genuine seal- 
skin, and Astrakan furs, cost from $60.00 to $125.00 
each, though they are sometimes offered as low as $20.00 
the sacque to uninstructed eyes as good as those at 



90 HINTS ON DKESS. 

higli prices. But on strict inquiry, or examination, it 
will be found that the skin was not properly cured at 
first, and is now infested by a very small insect, which 
commits its ravages on the skin side, where — sheltered 
by the lining — it may almost honey-comb the skin be- 
fore the presence of the little foe is suspected ; but 
when once it has secured a habitation it is scarcely to 
be dislodged, and after a little while it will be found 
that the gentlest pull is sufficient to tear the fur into 
jagged strips. 

A serviceable material for children's sacques in mode- 
rate weather is a white corduroy, which will wash well, 
at $1.50 per yard, twenty-seven inches wide. 

A durable and nice-looking stuff for the linings of 
cloth cloaks is called farmer's satin, thirty-two inches 
wide, sold at from eighty-five cents to $1.75 per yard. 
The medium quality — $1.25 per yard — is thought to be 
as durable, if not as nicely finished, as the higher priced. 
For velvets, taffeta, eighteen inches wide, at $1.25 per 
yard, is the most suitable lining. 

Bonnet velvets, eighteen inches wide, cost from $4.50 
to $5.50 per yard, the price depending more upon the 
tint than the quality. 

Furs vary so much with fashion that it is impossible 
to give reliable information about the prices. The 
finer sorts of mink look nearly as well as sables, are 
very much less in price, and will do as much service. 
Siberian squirrel fur is the cheapest of all the real 
furs, and for ordinary use answers an excellent purpose. 
Ermine should only be worn in pleasant weather in 
company with silks and velvets. 

In gloves we have not yet been presented with any- 
thing better than the Alexandre kids, but they are such 



I 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 91 

a costly luxury that those with whom economy is aL 
object are often forced to resort to less expensive, and 
less perfectly fitting gloves of the same materiel, or of 
silk. Alexandre kids, with but a single button, are sold 
at from $1.65 to $1.75 per pair ; with two buttons, at 
$2.00, and so on to $3.50 per pair. The systeme Jouvin 
gloves, are a cheaper sort of kid, of which those with 
two buttons are sold at $1.00 per pair, but they rarely 
fit well, and are often of a poor quality of kid. Gloves 
of EngHsh calf-skin, made like kids, which they closely 
resemble in appearance, are sold at from $1.75 to $2.50 
the pair, one of which will outlast three pairs of kids. 
For cold weather these gloves are much better than 
kid, but it is necessary to get the former one number 
larger than the latter, as they do not stretch. One style 
of calf-skin glove is made with gauntlets, for driving. 
Dog-skin gloves are another serviceable sort, sold at 
about the same rates as the calf-skin. In buying dog- 
skin gloves it is well to get a number smaller than when 
choosing those of kid, as they stretch a good deal. 

Alexandre silk gloves, nice and serviceable, are sold 
at $1.25 per pair. English Lisle thread at ninety cents 
per pair. Lace mitts are from seventy-five cents to 
$4.00 per pair. Fashion, in remanding these for very 
warm weather, has (for once) done a sensible thing. 
The grades sold at from $1.00 to $1.50 per pair, are 
more serviceable than those of higher price, though 
not so pretty. 

Buckskin driving gloves are sold at from $1.25 to 
$2.00 the pair. 

There are cheaper sorts of gloves than any we have 
mentioned, but they are scarcely worth the trouble of 
buying, and rarely look even tolernbly well. 



92 HINTS ON DRESS. 

Laces take an important place in the wardrobe of 
every woman who desires to dress elegantly. The 
genuine sorts — those worked by hand — are very ex- 
pensive, but in the end they are often as cheap as the 
trimmings which are originally less costly, for they are 
so durable, both in fashion and in fabric. Many of the 
woven imitations closely resemble the real laces at first, 
but after a little wear become shabby, faded, and flimsy- 
looking. It would be almost impossible to give in- 
structions about how to judge of laces, for it is an art 
which can only be acquired by practice; but a few hints 
in regard to the different varieties may be given, and 
after that the novice must trust to the assistance of some 
experienced friend, and to the honor of the merchant 
with whom she deals. 

Black trinnning-laces are of six sorts, the finest and 
most costly of which is the Chantilly-point, varying in 
width from one to eight inches, and in price from $5.00 
to $35.00 j)er yard. Ghantilly lace is only adapted 
for trimming the very richest of dresses, and shows to 
better advantage on white or colored silks than on 
black. 

The next in point of beauty and expense is the Eng- 
lish thread, sometimes called Brussels-point, though it 
is not as heavy as the lace our grandmothers knew by 
the latter name. This is very durable and pretty, and 
varies in cost from $3.50 to $10.00 per yard, according 
to width and pattern. That about three inches wide, 
costing $4.00 per yard, forms a very handsome 
trimming — as good as any one need desire — for velvet, 
and black, and colored silks, and is a convenient width, 
useful in many other ways as for bonnets, etc. 

Guipure is a heavy and strong lace, suitable for 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 93 

trimming cashmeres, and dresses of similar material, 
but not adapted to the most expensive suits of silk and 
velvet, with which, however, it is frequently used. Gui- 
pure varies in price from thirty cents per yard for that 
one inch in width, . to $8.00, for that eight inches 
wide. 

Llama-lace is a strong, fine-wool lace, in pretty pat- 
terns, ranging from forty cents to $5.00 per yard, ac- 
cording to width, and adapted to the same uses as gui- 
pure, though it is not quite as rich-looking. 

Worsted lace is a very heavy sort, adapted to trim- 
ming thick cloth dresses, and sold at from fifty cents to 
$4.00 per yard. This lace also comes in colors, but 
cannot be recommended. 

Spanish lace, though a real, that is, a hand made 
lace, is coarse and ugly, much inferior to the imitations 
of thread which are sold at about the same prices — 
fi-om forty cents to $3.00 per yard. 

At present the most popular of the white laces is the 
well known Valenciennes, varying in price from $1.30 
per yard, for a very coarse pattern, one inch wide, to 
$30.00 for a fine sort three and a half inches wide.. But 
popular as it is, Valenciennes is not the best lace to 
buy, for besides that it is more readily imitated than the 
other hand-made laces, it is made of cotton instead of 
linen, and is therefore less durable. 

White English thread laces are cheaper, more durable 
and prettier than the Valenciennes, and are sold at the 
same rates as the black thread laces. 

The Duchesse lace is a most beautiful sort for trim- 
ming the very richest of materials, but is unsuitable 
with any other ; that about five inches wide costing 
$4:0.00 per yard. 



9i HINTS ON DBESS. 

Point lace, not quite as showy as the Duchesse, but 
finer, is sold at the same rates ; and point -applique at 
a little less, that three inches wide costing but $21.00 
per yard. But none of these very high-priced laces 
should be purchased by any save the very rich, not only 
on account of their own cost, but because they necessi- 
tate the purchase of correspondingly costly articles of 
every sort from head-dress to shoe. 

Handkerchiefs of Valenciennes lace vary from $1.50 
to $30. 00 each ; those at $5.00 and $6.00 being quite 
pretty. Of point lace they range from $6.00 to 
$200.00. 

Valenciennes collars cost from $2.50 to $30.00 ; those 
at $5.00 to $10.00 are very nice. Point lace collars vary 
in fineness with the price, which ranges from $6.00 to 
$60.00: one at $10.00 is good enough for the "best 
dress collar " of any reasonable woman, and will last a 
life time. 

Lace shawls are found in every degree of fineness 
and beauty, from $1500 to $2500 and $3000 ; those at 
the latter prices being artistic productions which not 
seldom cost the eyes, if not the lives, of their patient 
workers 

The best qualities of Llama lace are sold at $100, and 
are fine and durable. Chantilly and point lace jackets 
are sold at from $100 to $1,000 each ; and those of 
Llama lace at from $14.00 to $100, but as these last are 
articles that may speedily pass out of fashion, it would 
scarcely be wise to purchase one of the more costly 
sort, and the lowest grades are too coarse to be de- 
sirable. 

In stepping back to the less beautiful and expensive, 
but more essential, articles, we find Balmoral skirts ol 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 95 

■ different materials are sold from $1.50, for the washable 
black and white printed canton-flannel, to $3.75 for the 
striped wash poplin. 

White skirts, to be worn under thin walking dresses, 
are sold at from ninety cents to $4.00 each for the 
plainly tucked and ruffled, and from $6.00 to $19.00 for 
the embroidered ; while trained white skirts are sold at 
from $5.00 to $30.00. Short white muslin underskirts 
are offered at from $1.00 to $5.00. Drawers at from 
ninety cents to $7.00. Cotton chemises at from $1.75 
to $7.00 each, and linen ones at from $3.75 to $25.00. 
Night dresses at from $2.00 for those plainly but nicely 
made, to $65.00 for those elegantly fashioned, and 
trimmed with real lace. 

Corsets bring from seventy-five cents to $20.00 the 
pair ; the best grades for use being those at from $3.00 
to $5.00. 

The cheaper grades of all the foregoing articles are 
generally quite good enough for sensible people to wear. 

Of fine linens there are two sorts recommended — 
Richardson's, and Stewart's family. The first varies in 
price from forty cents to $1.75 per yard, one yard wide; 
the latter from thirty-five cents to $1.50. Richardson's 
at sixty-five, and Stewart's at eighty-five cents per yard, 
are both good grades for serviceable underwear. 

The best muslins for making white skirts, chemises, 
etc., are Jones' cambrics, from forty-two to forty-five 
inches wide, and thirty to sixty-five cents per yard ; 
and French percales, a very nice article, one yard wide, 
at from thirty to forty cents per yard. 

Berlin cord, an old-fashioned material, is again used 
to make bustles and skirts for those who dislike hoops. 
It is twenty-eight inches wide at forty cents per yard. 



96 HINTS ON DRESS. 

For night-dresses, French percales, mentioned Ibr- 
skirts, and India-twilled long-cloth, both plain and 
striped, forty inches in width, are excellent. The latter 
is sold at from twenty-five to sixty-two cents per yard, 
that at forty-eight cents being a nice quality. 

In stockings, as in other things, one may bay plain 
and useful articles at a moderate price, or finer at more 
extravagant rates. We may purchase pretty and 
durable Lisle-thread hose, at from $1.80 to $6.50 per 
pair ; or Balbriggan — strong and good — at from $1.00 
to $4.00 per pair — the first grade being nearly, if not 
quite, as serviceable as the others. Or merinos at 
from $5.40 to $25.00 per dozen ; the best of these for 
common use are sold at from $10.00 to $12.00 per 
dozen. Of cotton stockings the " British four-threads" 
are excellent for ordinary use at $7.50 per dozen. 

Of under-flannels there are four sorts. The " gauze " 
at from $1.00 to $1.75 each ; the " paper-gossamer," of 
medium thickness, at from $2.25 to $2.50 each ; the 
winter "all wool merinos" at from $1.75 to $4.25 ; and 
"silk flannels," thin for summer, at $4.75 each, and 
thick for winter, at from $5.75 to $7.00 each. Drawers 
are sold to match each of the above at from $1. 50 to 
$8.00 the pair. Perforated buckskin vests cost from 
$2.00 to $4.00 each, and the drawers are $5.00 per 
pair. 

Ladies' ribbed merino underskirts are sold at $1. 75 
each ; and flannel skirts at from $2.50 to $12.00 each. 

Flannels for ladies' and children's underskirts are of 
many varieties, from the newl}' introduced and prettily 
embroidered styles, all of one quality of flannel, but 
varying in price according to the pattern of the machine- 
made embroidery, from $1.50 to $4.25 per yard, to the 



HOW AND WHAT TO BUY. 97 

narrow and nearly all cotton sorts sold at forty cents 
per yard. For warm and serviceable underskirts the 
flannel made of cotton and wool, carded, spun and 
woven together, is the most desirable as it will wash 
without shrinking. This is known as the Gilbert flan- 
nel, is one yard wide and sold at from thirty-five to 
ninety cents per yard, according to weight and fineness. 
Shaker-all-wool flannel — one yard wide — sold at from 
seventy-five to ninety-five cents per yard, is very warm 
but prone to shrink. The thickest and best winter 
flannel, when carefully washed, is the Welsh, sold at 
from ninety-five cents to $2.10 per yard : it is thirty 
inches wide, exclusive of the broad bands of list which 
form the selvedges. Swan-skin flannel, all wool, soft, 
fine and thick, but much disposed to shrink, two and a 
half yards wide, ranges at from $1.10 to $3.00 per yard. 
A nice cotton and wool flannel, thin and hght for sum- 
mer use, is sold at fifty-five and sixty-five cents per yard. 
For infants' use there are two desirable sorts, one from 
the Gilbert mills, fine, soft, and will bear frequent 
washing, is one yard wide, and costs from seventy 
cents to $1.25 per yard ; the other, called the " Gilbert 
moleskin," as fine as the first but heavier, at from eighty 
cents to $1. 30 per yard. Gilbert's medicated red flan- 
nel is highly recommended — by those who have worn it 
— as being beneficial in rheumatic complaints. It is 
one yard wide, and sold at fi'om $1.00 to $1.30 per 
yard. 

Canton flannels are of both English and American 
manufacture ; the latter being, we are sorry to confess, 
much the poorer quality. The widths are the same, 
thirty inches and one yard. Bleached Enghsh is sold 
at forty-five and fifty cents per yard ; unbleached 



98 HINTS ON DEESS. 

at forty-five cents ; bleached American at twenty-five 
and thirty cents per yard, and unbleached at fifteen 
to twenty-five cents. 

Though not a showy part of the dress, shoes are ex- 
pensive and essential. Those of French kid are the 
handsomest walking shoes in use, and cost from $6. 00 
per pair for the machine-made, to $7.00 for the plainest 
hand-made, and as high as $15.00 for the more fanci- 
fully finished — those at $7.00 being as serviceable as 
the more expensive. Morocco shoes — not quite as 
soft for the feet — are a little stronger than kid, and 
sold at about the same prices. Those of pebble-goat 
are not as fine as either kid or morocco, but are the 
most durable shoes for daily wear, costing $4.50 for the 
machine-made, and $5.00 for the hand-made. Prunella 
shoes vary from $4.00 to $6.00 for machine or hand- 
made, the latter being always considered the most 
durable. Prunella slippers, without heels, are sold at 
from $1.00 to $1.50; morocco slippers, without heels, are 
from $1.50 to $3.00; those at $2.00 being of good qual- 
ity ; morocco slippers, with heels, cost from $2.00 to 
$3.00, for the plainer sort, and $4.00 to $4.50 for the 
much ornamented Marie Antoinette slippers. 

The foregoing statements of prices are, of course, 
subject to many local variations, as well as to fluctu- 
ations in gold ; which is now — September, 1872 — stand- 
ing at about $1.15, but the information in regard to 
price, quality, and durability has been gained from 
trustworthy sources, and we think will prove reliable 
and valuable. 



CHAPTEE Vn. 



TASTE AND ECONOMY 



We have already explained that in our view the taste- 
fulness of dress does not depend upon the amount of 
money expended ; that attention to the laws of color, 
form, and fitness are the essentials, and that these laws 
can be fully considered where comparatively little money 
is used. But it will not be amiss to say a few words in 
regard to how economy may be consulted in the choice 
of materials, the fashion of making, and the manner of 
wearing. 

In regard to a choice of material, we trust our chap- 
ter on •' How and What to Buy," will give valuable as- 
sistance, especially to those ladies who, having but a 
limited time to devote to shopping, desire to have their 
minds in some degree determined upon what to pur- 
chase before entering a store, where they may be con- 
fused by the novelty and variety of the articles pre- 
sented, and thus induced to buy those which, from in- 
feriority of manufacture, or from unsuitableness to the 
situation and surroundings of the wearer, will prove 
extravagant. 

Goods of starthng patterns, or those which are " the 
rage," even though very pretty, are not safe purchases 



100 HINTS ON DRESS. 

for persons with limited purses. The articles are 
marked, and as such, the eye of the wearer and of be- 
holders soon becomes wearied, and the dress, though 
still in good condition, can only be worn under protest, 
or be laid aside for the next beggar. Plain goods are 
never out of date, and narrow perpendicular stripes, 
tiny checks, or " chenes," or small figures, though not al- 
ways fashionable, are rarely out of taste. But the 
" robe," or " pattern dresses," however beautiful when 
in vogue, are outre when not " the rage " of the moment ; 
" bayadere " or diagonal stripes, barely endurable when 
Fashion gives them her sweetest smiles, are positively 
ugly when viewed in the shade of her frown ; and the 
exaggerated flowers twined about miniature towers, or 
decorating the brows of Liliputian Cupids, which excite 
smiles even in their palmiest days, will become grotesque 
to an unendurable degree when Fashion shall have 
decreed their doom. 

Those ideas of taste which are formed simply upon 
" what is worn this season," are always unreliable, and 
are apt to lead those who suffer themselves to be so 
guided, into many needless expenses ; while true taste, 
based upon the unvarying laws of color, form, and fit- 
ness, will preserve its followers from extravagance, and 
from that whimsicalness of attire which the devotees of 
mere Fashion are almost sure to exhibit. Even in 
plain colors, or narrow stripes, etc.. Fashion decrees 
frequent changes, but Economy requires that Fashion's 
views shall not be strictly followed. If any particu- 
lar shade is the approved novelty of the day, 
Economy knows that though pretty in itself, its very 
prevalence will, in another year, render it almost tire- 
some, and therefore that it will be better to purchase 



TASTE AND ECONOMY. 101 

a dress of a shade that has been overlooked of late, not 
only because it is at present cheaper, but because it will 
not as soon fatigue the eye. But in the choice of rib- 
bons, or other articles which are not expected to be 
worn more than one season, it is not necessary to regard 
this poiat. 

Those goods which are ahke on both sides — whether 
plain or figured — as they can be turned, are more eco- 
nomical than those with but " one face ;" and those 
which have — in dressmaker's phrase — "no up nor down" 
to the figures, can be cut to better advantage than those 
in which the direction of the pattern must be considered. 
Indeed, it requires from one to three yards more mate- 
rial to cut a dress where care is necessary to match the 
figures, than when there is no such necessity. 

Colors that readily spot or fade are undesirable, even 
if the material is one which can be dyed without in- 
jury, which can scarcely ever be said of any but thick 
and soft all-wool fabrics. Very light shades should 
rarely be chosen in any but washable goods, for though 
the wearer may be one of the neatest and most careful 
of beings, she cannot avoid all contact with dust and 
dirt ; and she will feel decidedly more comfortable if 
her dress is one that can be washed or brushed into 
cleanliness, than if she is conscious that even a slight 
dinginess of hue must remain after her best efforts to 
remove the traces of a soiled car-seat, or the accidental 
touch of grimy fingers. 

In choosing trimmings, it is always best to select 
something that, like real lace, is ever in fashion, and 
can be used upon different dresses. A few yards of 
good lace may cost more in the first place, but in the 
end will be found to be more economical than the 



102 HINTS ON DRESS. 

cheaper sorts of trimming, or than cutting up into end- 
less ruffles and puffs, the stuff of which the dress is 
made, unless the latter is of some comparatively cheap 
material. 

Gloves may make either a light or a heavy item in 
our yearly expense book, very much as we choose. If 
we select only dark, neutral tints, black, or " invisible 
green " — best of all colors for those whose hands per- 
spire freely — we shall require a comparatively small 
number of pairs ; but if we indulge in very light 
shades, kid-gloves may cost us as much as an elegant 
velvet cloak, and yet our hands will be no more neatly 
clad than if we wore the darker colors. 

For expensive dresses we should prefer to buy the 
material and have it made up by a dressmaker in whom 
we have confidence, or by ourselves, if we possess the 
requisite skill, as we are then more certain of a perfect 
fit, and can also plan to have the stuff cut to advantage ; 
that is, so that it can be remodelled to suit the changes 
of style. But for business-suits, or any dresses made 
of the more serviceable, but comparatively inexpensive 
materials, as alpacas, linens, lawns, etc., it is usually 
more economical to buy the ready-made suits now 
offered at all our best dry-goods stores. These suits 
may frequently be purchased at but a slight advance of 
what would be the cost of the material alone to those who 
have not the privilege of buying at wholesale rates, if the 
purchaser has sufficient independence of character to 
buy a dress made in a fashion three or four months old. 
Of course the dress should be examined to make sure 
that it is well sewed, etc. ; but at a reliable dealer's — and 
we should patronize no other— this is always the case. 

One silk dress during the year, made up first as a 



TASTE AND ECONOMY. 103 

dress of ceremony, and the next year transformed into 
a suit, and its place taken by a new one, will keep a 
lady, who only does the average amount of visiting, 
very well supplied with silks, old and new ; while one 
really useful suit for winter, and another for summer, 
with an incidental linen, and two or three house dresses, 
will comprise, as far as dresses are concerned, a suffi- 
cient wardrobe. 

In respect to the manner of making dresses, the most 
important consideration is never to be led to the ex- 
treme of the mode, but rather to aim at the least ex- 
pense of money, material, time, and fuss, which will 
enable us to pass without an appearance of singularity. 
And this will ensure that a dress can be worn a much 
longer time, without alteration, than if made in servile 
imitation of the fashion plates. Persons of taste— 
whether economically disposed or not — will avoid tor- 
menling their dress with an over abundance of trimming, 
or with exaggerated outlines. Thus, if we must wear 
paniersj they need not be of extravagant proportions ; if 
some trimming is essential to finish the skirt of a walk- 
ing dress, it is not necessary that we indulge in fifteen 
scalloped flounces ; if bonnets and hats are aspiring in 
tendency, it is not important that they resemble Towers 
of Babel ; or, if they inchne to breadth of outline, it is 
not necessary that the sides should emulate the wings of 
a condor. In short, moderation in following the vaga- 
ries of fashion is one of the most essential principles 
whether of economy or taste. Or, in the words of 
Ruskin, which it is no perversion to apply to so impor- 
tant an external evidence of the mental state as dress : 

" The least appearance of violence or extravagance is 
destruction of all beauty whatsoever, in every thing. 



104 HINTS ON DRESS. 

color, form, motion, language, or thcnighi, giving rise 
to that which in color we call glaring, in form inele- 
gant, in motion ungraceful, in language coarse, in 
thought undisciplined, in all unchastened." 

Both economy and taste insist upon the strict obser- 
vance of the previously given hints in regard to wear- 
ing any article of dress only upon suitable occasions. 
Scarcely anything is more wasteful than the habit of 
wearing, rich costly dressing, at inappropriate times and 
places. It is a frequent complaint that while the 
brocades and satins of " our grandmothers " endured 
for a quarter of a century or more, the silks and velvets 
of our own day will last but two or three years at most. 
There is, doubtless, some justice in the accusation of 
deterioration in the goods, but it should be remembered 
that our " venerated ancestresses " kept their one or two 
dresses of such expensive materials, solely for the " red 
letter days " of their lives, the weddings, the levees, etc. 
It never would have occurred to one of them to wear 
upon an ordinary calling excursion a silk that had cost 
$6.00 or $7.00 per yard, much less to don it when 
taking Teddy and Johnny to be fitted for new shoes. 

But at present, economy is looked upon by too many 
persons as an ignoble thing, smacking of penurious- 
ness, only to be practised when extravagance is impos- 
sible, and its tokens to be hidden as if they were evi- 
dences of crime. Yet, when we look at the " world of 
want " around us, it seems almost impossible to under- 
stand this perverted view. It would be quite so, were 
it not for a painful perception of the innate selfishness 
of many natures. Knowing this, and conscious of the 
fact that extravagance is but another name for selfish- 
ness, we can comprehend why it is that th(^ generosity 



TASTE AND ECONOMY. 105 

of econonvj is so despised. It is a truth, though one 
not generally recognized, that nearly all avaricious 
people are lavish in expenditures for dress ; while the 
truly generous, those who can be depended upon to 
open their hearts and their purses to cases of want and 
suffering, are those who spend comparatively little for 
personal decoration. In opposition to this truth is the 
erroneous notion that those who spend money for 
dress by giving employment to factory laborers and 
seamstresses, are actually conferring a benefit. On this 
subject we feel that Kuskin's words are far better than 
ours, and close our little volume with a paragraph from 
his lecture on the " management of riches." 

" If you are a young lady, and employ a certain num- 
ber of seamstresses for a given time, in making a 
given number of simple and serviceable dresses, sup- 
pose seven, of which you can wear one yourself for 
half the winter, and give six away to poor girls who 
have none, you are spending your money unselfishly. 
But if you employ the same number of seamstresses 
for the same number of days, in making four, or 
five, or six beautiful flounces for your own ball- 
dress — flounces which will clothe no one but yourself, 
and which you will yourself be unable to wear at more 
than one ball — you are employing your money selfishly. 
You have maintained, indeed, in each case the same 
number of people ; but in the one case you have di- 
rected their labor to service of the community ; in the 
other case you have consumed it wholly upon yourself, 
I don't say you are never to do so ; I don't say you 
ought not sometimes to think of yourselves only, and 
to make yourselves as prett}' as you can ; only do not 
confuse coquettishness with benevolence, ncr cheat youi"- 



106 HINTS ON DRESS. 

selves into thinking that all the finery you can wear ia 
so much put into the hungry mouths of those beneath 
you : it is not so ; it is what you yourselves, whether you 
will or no, must sometimes instinctively feel it to be — it 
is what those who stand shivering in the streets, form- 
ing a line to watch you as you step out of your car- 
riages, know it to be ; those fine dresses do not mean 
that so much less has been put into their mouths, but 
that so much has been taken out of their mouths. The 
real politico-economical signification of every one of 
these beautiful toilettes, is just this : that you have had 
a certain number of people put for a certain number 
of days wholly under your authority, by the sternest of 
slave-masters — hunger and cold ; and you have said to 
them, 'I will feed you indeed, and clothe you, and give 
you fuel for so many days ; but during these days you 
shall work for me only ; your little brothers need 
clothes, but you shall make none for them ; your sick 
friend needs clothes, but you shall make none for her ; 
you yourself will soon need another, and a warmer 
dress ; but you shall make none for yourself. You shall 
make nothing but lace and roses for me ; for this 
fortnight to come, you shall work at the patterns and 
petals, and then I will crush and consume them away 
in an hour.' You will perhaps answer, ' It may not be 
particularly benevolent to do this, and we won't call it 
so ; but at any rate we do no wrong in taking their 
labor when we pay them their wages : if we pay for 
their work we have a right to it.' No ; a thousand 
times no. The labor which you have paid for does 
indeed become, by the act of purchase, your own labor ; 
you have bought the hands and the time of these work- 
ers ; they are by right and justice your own hands, your 



TASTE AND ECONOMY. 107 

own time. But have you a right to spend your own 
time, to work with your own hands, only for your own 
advantage? much more when, by purchase, you have 
invested jonr own person with the strength of others ; 
and added to your own hfe a part of the Hfe of others ? 
You may, indeed, to a certain extent, use their labor 
for your deHght : remember I am making no general 
assertions against splendor of dress, or pomp of acces- 
sories of life ; on the contrary there are many reasons 
for thinking that w.e do not at present attach enough 
importance to beautiful dress as one of the means of 
influencing general taste and character. But I do say, 
that you must weigh the value of what you ask these 
workers to produce for you in its own distinct balance; 
that on its own worthiness or desirableness rests the 
question of your kindness, and not merely on the fact 
of your having employed people in producing it ; and 
I say further, that as long as there are cold and naked- 
ness in the land around you, so long there can be no 
question at all but that splendor of dress is crime." 



TEE EKD. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 



mnl for ^outhqm. 



OOHPRISINO 

A BILL OF FARE FOR BREAKFAST, DINNER, AND T£A, FOR BTKBT 

DAT IN THE YEAR. 



WITH AN 

appe:ndix, 

CONTAINING RECIPES FOR PICKLES AND SAUCES. 



NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 AND 29 West 23d St. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
OEORGE P. PUTNAM & Prs 
lA no Oierk'a Office of the District Court of the United States for int 
Soutberi! District of New York. 



PEEFAOE. 



WHAT SHAIiIi WE EAT? 

The design of this Manual is to suggest to 
ladies, without the trouble of thinking^ what is 
seasonable for the table, each day in the week, 
and how it shall be cooked. Also to present to 
the community of housekeepers, who sigh over the 
responsibility of providing for the daily wants of 
life, an agreeable variety, which may be varied to 
suit the income of the reader. The receipts have 
all been tested by actual experience. A daily 
'• bill of fare " for breakfast, dinner, and tea is 
given, for one week in each month, which will 
present to the reader at once what is wanted, 
without the trouble of looking over a cook-book. 
A collection of Pickles and Sauces of rare merit 
form a desirable addition at the end. 



BREAKFAST 



A WORD on this early meal. It should be what will 
best fortify a man for the labor of a long day, and 
should consist of palatable solids. In a chilly climate 
like America, wine is a mistake, even with French 
cookery ; if strong, it diminishes business keenness ; if 
weak, it imparts no warmth. Instinct points to hot 
beverages, either coffee, tea, or chocolate. Every va- 
riety of cold meats, game, potted meats, and fish, 
tongue, boar's head, pickled poultry, etc., are suitable, 
and with bread form a desirable meal. Omelets, sar- 
dines, and roes of different fish, hot buttered cakes, etc., 
make the eater heavy for the day. There is really no 
time when one needs so good a supply of food as at 
breakfast, when one has not eaten for twelve or fourteen 
hours, and fuel is needed for active existence; yet no 
meal is so much neglected, and people well informed 
fritter an appetite away on toast and tea. Fruit is a good 
digeste-r, dried mango-fish from India, cranberry jam, etc., 
are all good. A breakfast should be as carefully com- 
posed as a dinner. Secure by art what is due to the 
dignity of the meal, and give it its true position. 



INDEX 



PAGE 

AFrenchpie 110 

Almond cake 17 

" custard. 23 

" croquantes 92 

" pudding 48 

Apple Charlotte 101 

" dumplings 44 

" fritters 46 

" jelly 37 

" pie 23 

" Bouflle 86 

Apres cake 34 

Arrowroot pudding 13 

Asparagus soup G8 

Barley broth 13 

Baked cod's head 83 

" Indian pudding 35 

♦' calf's head 79 

" hatter pudding 92 

«• mackerel 39 

" quince pudding 15 

" pike 80 

Bake well pudding 59 

Bean soup 30 

Beef a-la-mode 49 

" coUops 56 

'• patties 10 

" soup 11 

** ragout , 17 

Beefsteak pudding 70 

Benton tea-cakes 10 

Black bean soup 43 

Blancmange 29 

Black plum cake 58 



PAOI 

Blackberry pudding 84 

Boiled perch 109 

Boiled beef, sauce piquant 28 

Bohemian cream 61 

Bolas d'amor 124 

Bonedlamb 93 

Bouilli 93 

Bread and butterpudding 91 

" cake 53 

«' pudding 21 

Brown biscuit 23 

'• fricassee 84 

" bread ice 57 

Bonbons 133 

Brandy pudding 47 

Boiled pigeons 51 

Buns 64 

Buckwheat cakes 30 

Burnt cream 25 

Calves'-foot jelly 97 

" liver stewed 26 

'* brains 72 

Carrot pie 106 

Caramel custard 15 

Candied fruit 133 

Celery soup 19 

Chicken croquettes 117 

" salad 123 

" pillau 22 

" soup 46 

'• pot-pie 55 

" pudding 74 

'• & la Carmelite 69 

" pie 112 



INDEXs 



PAGE 

Chicken soup with tomato 20 

" patties 13 

Chile sauce 130 

Cheap eoup 109 

Champagne cream 86 

Chocolate pudding 44 

" cream 17 

Charlotte Russe 121 

Cheese-cakes 121 

Clam fritters 126 

'• soup 27 

Croquettes of calf's brains 22 

Cranberry and rice jelly 58 

Crackers with anchov3' sauce... 47 

« toast 20 

Cream fritters 47 

" pudding 81 

" cake 116 

Cr^me au Marasquin 63 

" ^la vanille 118 

College pudding 26 

Cottage soup 118 

** pudding 41 

Coftee custard 12 

" cakes 75 

Cocoanut pudding 43 

" pie 55 

Codling soup 82 

Corn meal griddle-cakes 19 

" bread 14 

" pone 20 

Cookies 125 

Cold ham cake 16 

Curry of chicken 37 

Cup-cake 16 

Cucumber vinegar 129 

" stewed 73 

Cutlets of sole 91 

Custard cream of chocolate 21 

Coloring for .iellies 133 

Damson pudding 104 

Delicate dish 14 

Duck with peas 80 

Dutch butter 55 



PAQB 

Eel soup 95 

Fish soup 18 

Feather cake 38 

Flemish cream 54 

Flour pudding 10 

FreiiCh flummery 69 

Fricandek of veal 61 

Game soup 112 

G.rman cake 90 

" pulls 31 

" toast 53 

Gem^ 27 

Ginger cup-cake 21 

" poundcake 114 

Giblet soup 14 

Gloucester pudding 57 

Gooseberry pudding 73 

Green pea soup 60 

Green corn 72 

Gravy soup 120 

Harrico soup 106 

Harrison cake 23 

Ham toast 57 

" sandwiches 44 

Hasty pudding 110 

Hock 108 

Hot gingerbread 37 

Huckleberry pudding 91 

Italian cream 60 

Icecream — Newport rceipt.... 82 

Irish stew 114 

JeUycake 119 

Jersey pickle 129 

Kedgeree 75 

Kidney fritters 109 

» toast 66 

K isses 84 

Kri ngles 44 

La Galettecake 122 

Lamb's head 41 

" " stewed 87 

Lemon cheese-cakes 67 

" jelly 26 

*' pudding .. 62 



INDEX. 



PAGE 

Lemon syllabub 66 

Lobsterpie. 66 

" salad 40 

" soup 85 

Madeira buns 29 

Matrimony Ill 

Matelote of firih 45 

Miroton of apples 38 

'« ofveal 33 

Mince pie 29 

Macaroni pudding 61 

Montagu pudding 52 

Mother Eve's pudding 69 

Mocii turtle soup 24 

Mutton kebobbed 39 

" kidneys fried 46 

" pillau 63 

Muffins 21 

Mullagataw nee soup 49 

Mushroom catsup 130 

Miirmalades - 132 

Neat's tongue fricassee 85 

New Year's cnke 18 

New England chowder 48 

Orange custard 34 

« butter 65 

" syrup 133 

Olej'-cookP 42 

Ox-check soup 86 

Ox-tail soup 115 

Oy>ter soup , 9 

Orange compote 132 

Pea soup 10 

Peach pudding 94 

Plain cake 28 

Plum pudding, not rich 64 

" " rich 117 

Pigeon pie 43 

" fricassee 82 

" with peas 62 

Pillau of rabbit 97 

Pickles and sauces 127 

Pickled cauliflower 127 

*' cucumbers 127 



PGS 

Pickled eggs 12"! 

" lemons 128 

*' mushrooms 128 

" walnuts 12? 

Potted fish 107 

" pigeonn 3f 

Pomme mauge 31 

Pound-cake 25 

'« puddli'g 32 

Potatoes k la maitre d'hotel .... 9 

" fritters 110 

" soup 123 

Pri'serves and confectionery.... 131 

Quaking pudding 63 

Queen cake 56 

Ragout of veal 48 

Raspberry cream 32 

" vinegar 134 

Rhenish cream 38 

Rice croquettes 71 

*' custards 45 

" griddle-cakes 107 

« cake 31 

«' soup 26 

" pudding with fruit 18 

Ris de reau 27 

Rissoles 65 

Roast beef, with Yorkshire pud- 
ding 46 

Roast ham 98 

" lobster 93 

Rolypoly pudding 96 

Sau e universal 129 

Sausage toast 9 

Seed cake 110 

Scallopped oj stern 15 

Scot's kail soup 41 

Scotch cake 12 

Snow cream 59 

Soft boilfd custard 88 

Sponge cake 47 

Sponge cake 112 

'• pudding 107 

Spanish fritters., US 



INDEX. 



PAGE 

Spanish soup Ill 

Bpiced veal 106 

Squash pie 12 

Stewed eels 119 

" cliickens 124 

codfish 78 

" terrapin 87 

" heef.. 91 

" scallops ' 98 

Soupala Bisque 42 

" Julienne 32 

•' Creci - 90 

Sago soup 22 

Soup a la Flamande 35 

•' maigre 98 

Spring soup 39 

Summer soup 74 

Swiss pudding 119 

Sweetbreads 21 

Sweetme t pudding 67 

Strawberry je'ly 74 

Tapioca pudding 116 

Toad-in-a-hole 32 

Tipsy pudding. 51 

Tomato soup 52 

" catsup ISO 

To flavor vinegar 129 



PAGB 

To keep grapes in brandy 132 

To preserve strawberries in 

wine 132 

To preserve oranges or lemonri 

in jelly 132 

To dry cherries without sugar.. 133 

Toffie 133 

Transparent pudding 99 

Turnip soup 45 

Turtle maigre soup 36 

Turk's cap 28 

Vegetable marrow soup 78 

" toast 54 

" ragout 75 

" soup 70 

Veal cutlets with rice 99 

" broth 33 

" cake 28 

Venison soup 113 

Vermicelli soup 28 

Waffles 11 

Waluut vinegar 129 

Whc-at biscuit 34 

"White soup 55 

Winter soup 124 

VVhipt cream ., 7fl 

Winibeg pudding . 94 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 



MONDAY. 



Breahfast. — Cold roast beef. Potatoes 4 la m^itre 
d'Hotel. (Boil the potatoes, and cut in thin slices. 
Take a pint of milk, and when scalding hot, stir in a 
tablespoonful of butter and flour, rubbed together. Add 
a small bunch of parsley, chopped fine. When well 
mixed, throw in the potatoes, shaking carefully without 
a knife or spoon, to avoid breaking. Salt to taste.) 
Sausage toast. (Scald the sausages in boiling water, 
fry to a light brown, chop fine, and spread on buttered 
toast.) Potted fish. Rolls and butter. Tea and cof- 
fee. 

Dinner. 

Oyster Soup. — Take fifty oysters, strain through a 

sieve, and put the liquor on the fire. When scalding 

hot, take ^ lb. of butter, and beat with 6 oz. of flour, 

roll ^ doz. butter crackers to a powder, and add all to 

1* 



1 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

the liquor, with salt and pepper to the taste, aud a sraal , 
pinch of powdered mace. Then add the oysters with a 
quart of milk (and a gill of cream if you have it), and 
stir with a silver spoon for ten minutes. Do nc^t lei 
them loil^ but thoroughly scald. 

Boiled Halibut. 

Roast Porh — Serve with apple-sauce, potatoes, and 
tomatoes. Baste with a little butter and flour, and 
rub with dried sage crumbed. 

Beef Patties. — Chop fine rare roast beef, season with 
pepper, salt, and a little onion. Make a plain paste, 
cut into shapes like an apple pufi", fill with the mince, 
and bake quickly. 

Dessert. 

Flour Pudding. — Five eggs, 1 qt. milk, 4 tablespoonfuls 
of flour, well stirred together. Bake in a quick oven, 
and eat with cold sauce. 

Fruit and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch, if the Dinner is late. 

Cold pickled salmon, tongue, bread and butter, can- 
ned peaches, tea and coffee, Benton tea-cakes (1 qt. of 
flour mixed with milk to a paste, 1 tablespoonful of 
melted butter. Roll very thin, and bake on hot hearth). 

Cream cake (1 lb. flour, 1 lb. sugar, i lb. of butter^ 
J- pt. milk, 4 eggs, citron, raisins, and spice to taste). 



"WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 11 

TUESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Breaded veal cutlet. Fried potatoes. 
Pickled tripe. Waffles. (Put 2 pints of milk into separate 
pans; warm one slightly, melt in it \ lb. of butter, and 
set it away to cool. Beat 8 eggs, and mix with the 
other pan, stirring in gradually i lb. of flour, and a little 
salt. Then mix the contents of both pans together, and 
add a large tablespoonful of yeast. Set near the fire to 
rise. When quite light, heat the waffle-iron and butter 
it, pour in the batter, and when done one side, turn. 
Send to the table hot, six on a plate, buttered, and 
strewn with powdered sugar if desired.) Hot brown 
bread. Cold bread. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 
Beef Soup. — ^Take a shank bone, with part of the leg, 
and put in a kettle with soft water to cover it, with a 
small piece of butter to keep from burning, while the 
juices are extracting. Set on the back of the range, and 
cook slowly for six hours, then strain, and when cold, 
remove every particle of fat. Place in another pot 5 
carrots, 5 onions, 1 cup of rice, ^ a bunch of celery, 
«ind a small bunch of parsley. In this pot may be plac- 
ed any bones, or pieces of coolced meat. Let them also 
stew slowly for six hours, then strain through a colan- 
der, and add totlie soup, with h a cup of tomato catsup. 



12 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Let all come to a boil together, then serve. Use a 
wooden spoon in stirring. This quantity of soup will 
suflfice a small family for a week, and should be kept in 
a cool place, in an earthen vessel. 

Fresh Cod, boiled, with melted butter. 

Roast Chickens, with mashed potatoes, cauliflower, 

and stewed celery. 

Cold Tongue. 

Dessert, 

Squash Fie. — One qt. of pulp strained through a sieve ; 
boil 1 qt. of milk, and stir the squash into it, with 2 
spoonfuls of flour shaken in. Add 2 eggs, and a piece 
of butter size of an egg. Season to the taste with sugar, 
cinnamon, and a little salt. 

Coffee Custard. — Boil a pint of milk, and pour upon 
it, while boiliDg, 2 tablespoonfuls of whole cofiee, warmed 
by the fire. Let it cool for an hour, then sweeten, add 
the yolks of 4 eggs, thicken over the fire (stirri-jg all 
the time) . "When thick enough, strain, and fill the lasses. 

Grapes, apples, and hickory nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold roast meat, raw oysters, apple-sauce, £'reneh 
bread and butter. Crackers. Scotch cake. (F ir to a 
cream 1 lb. of sugar and f lb. of butter, add t] e juice 
and grated rind of a lemon, with a wine-glass of candy 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 13 

Beat separately the whites and yolks of 9 eggs, and stir 
into the cake. Add 1 lb. of sifted flower, and just as it 
goes into the pan, 1 lb. of stoned raisins.) 



WEDNESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Hashed chicken on toast. Cold snipe. 
Mutton chops. Graham rolls. Dry toast. French 
bread and butter. Chocolate and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Barley Broth. — Boil gently, for half an hour, -^ pt. of 
pearl barley in a gallon of water. Take 3 lbs. lamb 
chops, with fat cut off, and put in a stewpan, with water to 
cover them. Add any kind of vegetables, carrots, tur- 
nips, onions, and celery cut fine. When tender, add to 
the barley water, and boil slowly 2 hours. Salt and 
pepper to taste. 

Fried Scallops. 

Roast JDtich, (scald, to prevent being oily,) with 
baked potatoes, onions, canned sweet corn, and celery. 

Chicken Fatties. — Chop fine and season well, and 
serve in puff paste. 

Fessert. 

Arrowroot Budding. — Simmer a pint of milk with a 
little cinnamon, take a tablepoonsful of arrowroot, mix 



14 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

with cold water, acd pour into the milk, stirring all the 
time. When cold, add 3 eggs well beaten, and stir all 
together. Bake ^ an hour in a dish lined with puff paste, 
and grate a little nutmeg on the top. 

Delicate Dish. — Beat the whites of 6 eggs, with 2 
spoonfuls of currant jelly, to a solid froth, so that it will 
not fall. Serve with cream and powdered sugar. 

Grapes, apples, and pecan nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Stewed oysters, cold game, French bread. Strawberry 
jam, sponge cake. 

THURSDAY. 

Breakfast. — Cold boiled ham. Cold roast duck. 
Omelet, with parsley. Stewed potatoes, with cream. 
Steamed toast. Corn bread (3 cups of meal, 1 cup of 
flour, 1 tablespoonful of butter, do. sugar, 1 teaspoonful 
of soda, 1 qt. of buttermilk, or sour milk, 2 eggs). Tea 
and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Gihlet Sou]). — Scald and clean a set of giblets, stew 
ID a little gravy with 2 onions, a bunch of sweet herbs. 
2 glasses of white wine, pepper, and salt. AVhen tender, 
take them out and strain the broth. Make a stock with 5 



WHAT SHALL WE BAT? Ifl 

lbs. of beef, and 5 pints of water. Skin 2 onions, slice thin, 
and fry in butter. Add flour to thicken the broth, with 
majoram and parsley, and stir all into the boiling stock 
Boil ^ an hour, pass through a sieve, and put again 
on the fire, skimming carefully. Add the giblets, 2 
glasses of wine, and a little lemon-juice. Season well. 

Boiled Striped Bass^ melted butter. 

Roast leg of Mutton^ with boiled potatoes, fried 
parsnips, boiled hominy, and baked tomatoes. 

Scalloped Oysters. — Scald the oysters in their own 
liquor, take them out with a fork, lay in a deep dish, 
sprinkling over each one rolled cracker crumbs, pepper 
and salt, and small pieces of butter. Stir a little butter 
and flour together, and stir into the liquor ; then fill up 
the dish with it, and brown in the oven. 

Dessert. 

Baked Quince Pudding. — Scald some quinces till 
tender, pare, and scrape ofi" the pulp ; then strew it with 
ginger, cinnamon, and sugar. To a pint of milk, or 
cream, put the yolks of 4 eggs and stir in the quince to a 
proper consistency. Bake in a dish lined with paste. 
Canned quinces can be used if necessary. 

Caramel Custard. — Melt \ lb. of pounded sugar over 
a slow fire till it begins to tint, stirring all the time. 
Boil 1 oz. of isinglass in a pint of milk, and pour it or 



16 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

the caramel, stirring till quite dissolved. Beat 4 egga 
and add ; then stir over the fire to thicken. Put in a 
mould, and then set on the ice. 
Fruit and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold ham cake. (Take ham that may be getting dry^ 
pound finely, with the fat, in a mortar, season with 
pepper and mixed spice ; add clarified butter sufficient 
to moisten, and place ^ an hour in the oven. Put the 
mould in warm water a few minutes, that it may turn 
out well.) Pickled oysters, dry toast, French bread, 
griddle-cakes, brandy peaches, cup-cake (4 eggs, 4 cups 
flour, 3 cups powdered sugar, 1 cup butter, 1 cup milk, 
1 glass white wine, spices, and a teaspoonful soda). Tea. 



FRIDAY. 

Breakfast. — Cold roast mutton, pickled pigs' feet, 

rolls, brown bread cream toast, boiled samp. Tea and 

coff"ee. 

Dinner. 

Pea Soup. — Put 1 qt. split peas into 3 qts. boiling 
water (first soak the peas over night) ; boil gently till 
dissolved, strain through a sieve, and add thyme, sweet 
marjoram, and some mushroom catsup. A small piece 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 17 

of ham will improve the flavor. Serve with small pieces 
of fried bread. 

Boiled Whitejish. 

Roast TurTcey. — With stewed potatoes, canned sweet 
corn, baked sweet potatoes, and cranberry jelly. 

Beef Ragout.—Fvj 2 lbs. of beef till quite brown, 
put it into a stewpan with 6 onions, pepper it well, and 
stew slowly 4 hours. Serve it up with pickled walnuts, 
gherkins, and capers, just warmed in the gravy. 

Dessert. 

Apple Pie. 

Chocolate Oea/w.— Scrape into I qt. of milk (or cream) 
1 oz. of best French cliocolate, and add \ lb. of sugar. 
Boil and and mill it. When smooth, take it off, and add 
the whites of 6 eggs, beaten to a froth. Strain through a 
sieve, and put in glasses. 

Oranges, raisins, and almonds. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold turkey, roast oysters, cheese, Graham crackers, 
preserved ginger, tea and chocolate, almond cake (2 oz. 
blanched bitter almonds, pounded fine ; 7 oz. flour, sifted 
and dried ; 10 eggs ; 1 pound loaf sugar, powdered and 
sifted, and a wine-glass of rose-water). 



18 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

SATURDAY. 
Breakfast. — Broiled ham, potted game, chipped pota» 
toes, milk toast, corn bread, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Fhh Soup. — Take one pound each of any fresh water 
fish — pike, perch, eels, &c. : wash in salt and water, and 
then stew with carrots, leeks, sweet herbs, and onions, in 
as much water as will cover them. Stew until all is re- 
duced to a pulp, then strain, and boil an hour, with a lit- 
tle mace, celery, and mushroom catsup, or any high- 
seasoned sauce. 

Fried Clams. 

Broiled Beefsteak^ with celery, potatoes, and stewed 
tomatoes. 

Broiled Snipe. 



Cranberry Ta/rts. 

Rice Pudding^ with fruit. — Swell the rice in milk, over 
the fire, and add pared and quartered apples, with a lit- 
tle currant jelly. 

Pears and dates. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold corn beef, hashed chicken, fried hominy, hot bis- 
cnit, raised, cranberry sauce, chocolate, New Year's cake 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? ]0 

(3 lbs. flour, 1| lbs. powdered sugar, 1 lb. butter, 1 pt. 
milk, with a teaspoonful of soda dissolved in it, juice of 
a lemon. Cut into shapes to bake) . 



SUNDAY. 



Breakfast. — Corn beef hash, cold snipe, corn meal 
griddle-cakes (scald half a pint of Indian meal, half a 
pint drj, do. flour, and stir all into a pint of milk, with a 
tablespoonful of butter, and one egg. Spread very thin 
on the griddle). Rolls, dry toast, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Celery Soup. — Blanch the heads of two bunches of cel- 
ery in warm water, and put them in a stewpan of broth 
made from boiled chicken, with a lump of sugar. Boil 
an hour, until soft enough to pass through a sieve ; add a 
cup of milk, and season to taste. 

Hoast Beef J with potatoes, beans, tomatoes, and spiced 
currants. 

Oyster Pie. 

Cold Boiled Ham. 

Dessert. 

Apple Puffs. — Pare and core apples, stew until tender, 
and when cold mix with sugar, grated lemon, and a lit- 
tle quince marmalade. Put in thin paste, and bake J 
of an hour. 



20 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Soft Boiled Custard. 

Macaroons, grapes, apples, and figs. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Broiled smoked salmon, sliced ham, steam toast, Qra- 
Lam crackers, assorted cakes, currant jelly, bread and 
butter, tea and chocolate. 



MONDAY. 

Breakfast. — Beefsteak broiled, cold tongue, baked po- 
tatoes, cracker toast (made of Bost«m hard crackers dip- 
ped in boiling milk, thickened with butter and flour), corn 
pone. (Take a pint of meal and scald it, and when cold, 
add 2 eggs, salt, and a cup of milk. Heat a round cake- 
pan, and butter well ; then put the pone in, and bake ^ an 
hour with a quick fire). Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Chichn Soup with Tomato. --^'BoW an old fowl slowly 
until it falls to pieces, season with salt, whole pepper, and 
l2 onions. Stain it, add two cups of tomato, and boil well 
together. 

Frost Fish Fried. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT i 23 

Roast Turkey^ with currant jelly, mashed potatoes, 
ai d stewed celery. 

Sweetbreads. — Parboil them slightly, and fry a light 
brown, with some mushroom catsup in the gravy. 

Dessert 

Custard Cream of Chocolate, — Grate 2 oz. of spiced 
chocolate into a pint of milk ; put into a stewpan, and add 
the yolks of 6 eggs. Stir over the fire until it thickens. 

Bread Fudding. — 1 pt. of bread crumbs, covered with 
milk, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Stir in, when hot, \ lb. of 
butter, \ lb. of sugar, and mix well together. When 
cool, add 6 eggs, and bake one hour in a deep dish. 

Oranges, nuts, and raisins. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold roast veal, sardines, Graham bread, French rolls, 
preserved pears, tea and chocolate, ginger cup- cake (5 
eggs, 2 teacups of molasses, 2 do. brown sugar rolled 
fine, 2 do. butter, 1 cup of milk, 5 cups flour, \ cup of 
powdered allspice and cloves, ^ cup ginger, ^ teaspoon- 
ful soda melted in vinegar). 



TUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Codfish balls, cold turkey, muffins (1 qt 
milk, 2 eggs, 2 spoonfuls of yeast, do. flour, butter size 



22 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

of an egg, melted in the milk, and a little salt. Warm 
the milk and add the rest; let it rise, and bake on a grid- 
dle). Corn bread, rolls, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Sa^o Soup. — Take 2 qts. of gravy soup, made of beef 
thicken with sago to the consistency of pea soup, and sea- 
son with catsup. 

Codfish, with oyster sauce. 

Chichen Pillau., with potatoes, fried parsnips, and 
stewed celery. (Put a large fat chicken, old or young, 
into a pot, with 1 carrot, onion, and a sprig of sweet 
herbs. Boil and skim. When the chicken is half cooked 
add a pint of tomatoes, cut up (fresh or canned), and a 
little broken mace. When it is done enough to eat as 
boiled fowl, take it up ; take out the carrot and onion, 
and measure the liquor. There should be about 3 pints. 
To each 2| cups of soup, put 1 of rice, and when it has 
boiled ten minutes, stir in a piece of butter, size of an 
egg. Before putting in the rice, pepper and salt the broth, 
and when it is tender (but not too soft) take it up. Serve 
in an oval dish, the fowl in the middle of the rice). 

Croqueites of Calfs Brains. — Blanch the brains, and 
beat them up with one or two chopped sage leaves, pep- 
per, salt, a few bread crumbs soaked in milk, and 1 egg. 
Roll tl\em into balls, and fry a light brown. 



WHAT SHALL %\'E EAT? 28 

Dessert, 

Apple Pie. — Pare and quarter apples, scald in sugai 
and water, and grate the rind of a ^-""gon over them. 
Add the juice of the lemon, | doz. whole cloves, buttei 
size of a walnut, and fill up the dish with the syrup. 
Use puff paste. 

Ahnond Custard. — One pt. of cream, do. milk, ^ lb. 
shelled sweet almonds, 2 oz. bitter almonds, 4 table- 
spoonfuls rose-water, \ lb. white sugar, the yolks of 8 
eggs, ^ teaspoonful oil of lemon. Blanch the almonds, 
and pound to a paste, mixing the rose-v.ater with it. 
Beat the eggs very light, and add with the sugar. Stir 
all gradually into the cream and milk, and beat well 
together. Stir on the fire till thick, and when cold, add 
the whites beaten to a froth. 

Figs and pecan nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold ham, potted fish, Indian griddle-cakes, cheese, 
brown biscuit (3 quarts Graham lioui, put into one 
of milk and water, with a tablespooniul of butter, a 
teaspoonful of soda, and a little salt). Preserved pine- 
apple, tea. Harrison cake (5 cups flour, H butter, 2^ 
sugar, 1 molasses, I cream, 4 eggs, 1 lb. raisins, citron, 
and mixed spice. Bake 3 hours). 



34 WHAT S y TVK EAT? 

WEDNESDAY. 

Breahfast. — Broiled liver, cold venison, potato cakes 
fried, milk toast of Grraham bread, rolls, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Mock Turtle Soup. — Take half a calf's head, fresh, 
and unstripped of skin, remove the brains, and clean the 
head carefully in hot water, leaving it in cold water for 
*m hour. Then put it into 6 qts. warm water, with 2 
lbs. veal, do. pork, a roasted onion stuck with cloves, a 
^•ind of lemon, 2 sliced carrots, a bunch of herbs, and a 
head of celer3\ Let it boil slowly 2 hours ; then take 
out the head and pork. Make forcemeat balls of the 
brains and tongue, break the bones of the head, put all 
into the soup, and boil 2 hours more. Put into a 
small stewpan a piece of butter, onions sliced thin, with 
parsley, thyme, mace, and allspice. A dd flour to thicken, 
and stir into the soup slowly. Boil gently 1 hour more, 
pass through a sieve, season with salt, cayenne, lemon- 
luice, and a pint of Madeira wine. Add mushrooms if 
desired, and serve with lemons cut in quarters. 

Fried JEels. 

Broiled Woodcock, with squash, sweet potatoes, and 
hominy. 

Boiled Corn Beef, 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 25 

Dessert. 

Cranberry Pie. 

Ihirnt Cream. — Make a rich custard without sugar, 
flavor with lemon, and when cold, sift white sugar thickly 
over it, and brown in the oven. 

Oranges and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Fried oysters, ham cake, hominy, dry toast, preserved 
damsons, bread and butter, chocolate, pound cake (I lb. 
flour, do. powdered sugar, 1 lb. butter, 10 eggs, ^ glass 
of wine, do. brandy, do. rose-water, mixed; 12 drops 
essence lemon, 1 tablespoontul mixed spice). 



THURSDAY. 

Breahfast. — Turkey hash, pickled tripe, fried potatoes, 
buckwheat cakes, brown and white b -cad, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Rice Soiqy.-^M-dke a beef soup, Loil 5 hours, then 
strain and add a cup of rice, same of tomato, pepper 
and salt. 

Fried HalihcL 



26 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

Boiled Mutton^ cap i- sauce, with baked potatoes, 
canned sweet corn, and turnips. 

Calfs Liver Stewed. — Cut the liver in pieces, lard 
nicely, and spread chopped parsley, pepper, and salt over 
them. Put a small piece of butter well mixed with flour 
in the bottom of a stewpan, put in the liver, and let it 
cook gently in its own juices until done. 

Dessert. 

College Pudding. — Take \ lb. of grated bread crumbs, 
suet (chopped fine), and currants; mix with 4 oz. of flour 
and 1 egg. Beat in a glass of brandy, season with nut- 
meg, and boil 3 hours in a mould. Serve with cold 
sauce. 

Lemon Jelly. — One qt. calf's foot stock, ^ pt. lemon 
juice, f lb. of sugar, the rind of 2 lemons cut thirty and 
the whites and shells of 5 eggs. Boil 20 minutes, and 
throw in a teacup of cold water; then let it boil 5 min- 
utes longer. Take from the fire and let it stand | an 
liour covered close. Then run through a bag till clear. 

Apples, nuts, and dates. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Odd woodcock, broiled herring, cracker toast, French 
Dread and butter, currant jelly, tea, Turk's cap (1 pint 
cream, 7 eggs, g- lb. flour, and salt; bake quickly). 



WHAT SHALL WE E\T ? 21 

FRIDAY. 

Breahfagt. — Mutton chops, minced codfish, with egg 
atewed potatoes, rice cakes, gems (wheat flour, unbolted, 
mixed with water an 1 salt, baked in a roll pan on tha 
top of the range), cold bread, tea, and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Clam Soup. — Strain the clams, and put on the liquor 
to boil ; beat a spoonful of butter and 1 of flour together, 
with pepper, and stir into cold water ; add to the soup 
with the clams chopped fine, and when nearly done, add 
a little milk. 

Baled Whitefish, 

Boiled Turkey^ oyster sauce, with potatoes, squash, 
and swe't corn. 

Ria de Veau. — Blanch 3 sweetbreads, and simmer in 
a well-flavored gravy till quite done. Have ready 3 
round trays of oiled paper, and lay them in, lightly wetted 
with gravy, fine crumbs of bread, pepper, salt, and a 
little nutmeg. Do slowly on a gridiron, and serve in 
the cases. 



Peach Pie. 

Fancy Cakes. 

Figs, nuts, and prunes. 



28 "WHAT SHALL WE EAT I 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Veal cake. (Bone a breast of veal, arid cut in slices 
cut also slices of ham, and boil 6 eggs hard ; butter a 
deep pan, and place all in layers, one over the other, cut- 
ting the eggs in slices^ and seasoning with cayenne, 
chopped herbs, anchovy, or any high-flavored sauce. 
Cover, and bake 4 hours, and when taken from the oven 
lay a weight upon it ; when cold, turn it out.) Cold 
roast beef, English pickles, crackers assorted, strawberry 
jam, rolls, plain cake (4 lbs. flour, 2 lbs. currants, 
and ^ lb. of butter, with clove, carraway seeds, and 
lemon peel, grated to the taste. Wet with milk, and i 
pt. yeast). 

SATURDAY. 

Breakfast. — Venison steak, cold boiled mutton, waf- 
fles, Indian banock, bread and butter, cocoa and cofifee 

Dinner. 

VermiceJU Soup. — Plain beef, without vegetables; 
when strained, add vermicelli. 

Striped Bass, Broiled. 

Boiled Beef, sauce piquant, with tomatoes, pota- 
toes, and parsnips, boiled. 

Boil the rump slowly for 5 hours; make a strong 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 29 

gravy of veal, ham, 2 spoonfuls of vinegar, parsley, 
cloves, onions, and herbs. Strsxin, and add mushrooms, 
capers, and a glass of brandy. 
Grouse Roasted. 

Dessert. 

Mince P«k— Take 2 lbs. of beef chopped fine, 2 
lbs. stoned raisins, 2 lbs. currants, 1 lb sultana raisins^ 
2 lbs. apples, | lb. sugar, 2 lbs. suet, the juice of 2 
lemons, and the rind of 1 chopped fine, | lb, of mixed 
spice, 2 glasses of brandy, 2 oz. of citron, and 2 of 
candied lemon peel. Mix well together in a jar. It 
will improve by lying a few days. Use puft' paste. 

Blanc Mange. — Boil 1^ oz. of isinglass, 3 oz. of sweet 
and 6 oz. of bitter almonds, (well pounded,) in a quart 
of milk. Sweeten, strain through a napkin, and put in 
the mould. 

Fruit and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold boiled turkey, scalloped oysters. (Dry the oys- 
ters with a cloth, and spread in layers in a deep dish, 
sprinkling each layer with pepper and salt, butter, and 
bread crumbs or rolled cracker. Bake 20 minutes.) 
Muffins, bread and butter, raspberry jam, Mad'^i-.-t buna 
(beat 8 oz. of butter to a cream, and add 2 eggs , take 
14 oz. of flour, 6 of white sugar, ^ nutmeg, one teaspoon. 



80 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

ful ginger, aud a spoonful of carra way seeds. Mix and 
work into the butter, and beat ^ an hour. Add a wine- 
glass of sherry, and bake quick in patty pans). Tea. 



SUNDAY. 
Breakfast — Liver hash, cold grouse, chipped pota- 
toes, gems of cornuieal, brown bread milk toast, buck- 
wheat cakes. (To 8 pts. of buckwheat flour mixed into 
a batter, add one teaspoonful of carbonate of soda, and 
one of tartaric acid dissolved in water. Bake at once.) 
Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Bean Soup — Soak a pint of small white beans over 
night, boil slowly 3 hours, adding a small piece of ham 
when half done. Season well, and strain. 

Hard-shell Crabs. 

Boast Beef, with rice, sweet potatoes, and baked 
tomatoes. 

Potted P Iff eons. — Stew the gizzards and livers, chop- 
ped fine ; add grated ham, bread crumbs, and herbs. 
Make into a forcemeat, rolling it round the yolk of a 
hard-boiled egg, aud stuff the pigeons. Put into a stew- 
pan with water and a little butter ; add gravy of the 
gizzards, a little flour, and an onion. Stew gently until 
done, adding a glass of wine. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT f 3 J 

Dessert. 

German Puffs. — Put ^ lb. of butter into J a pt. of 
milk, and when it boils add a cup of flour; beat well 
together, and when cold add 6 eggs well beaten, with ^ 
cup of sugar, and grated lemon. Bake in a moderate 
oven. 

Pomme Mange. — Peel and core 1 lb. of apples, and 
add to i lb. of sugar and ^ pt. of water. Boil till 
quite stiff, with some lemon peel. Put in a mould. 

Oranges, bananas, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold lamb, smoked salmon, broiled. Graham dry 
toast, cheese, milk biscuit, preserved grapes, rice cake 
(1 ib. ground rice, do lump sugar sifted, 8 eggs well 
beaten, the rind of a lemon. Beat all half an hour ; 
and bake 1^ hours). Tea. 



Mi^RCH. 



MONDAY. 



Breakfast. — Boiled eggs, toast, breaded lamb chops, 
fried potatoes, pickled tripe, corn bread, rolls. Tea 
and coffee. 



82 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 



Dinner. 

Soup d la Julienne. -^—Cnt in pieces size of dice 1 
head of celery, 2 carrots, 2 turnips, some small button 
onioi.s, heads of asparagus (dried) and hearts of lettuce., 
Boil slowly, and add to a beef broth. Use neither 
pepper or catsup 

BlacJcfish, boiled, melted butter. 

Roast Veal, with potatoes stewed, cauliflower, and 
tomatoes. 

Toad-in-a-liole. — Make a common batter of eggs, flour, 
and milk, rather thick, and put in the centre a fowl boned 
and stuffed with forcemeat ; cover entirely with batter, 
and bake ii. (Any kind of meat may be dressed in the 
same manner.) 

Dessert. 

Pound Calce Pudding. — One pt. flour, 1 cup milk, do. 
sugar, do. butter, 2 teaspoonfuls cream of tartar, sifted 
in the flour, 1 of soda (dissolved in the milk), 3 eggs. 
Bake 1 hour, and serve with wine sauce. 

Raspberry Cream. — Put i oz. isinglass, dissolved in 
"water, into a pint of cream, sweetened to the taste ; boi) 
it. When nearly cold, lay some raspberry jam in a glass 
dish, and pour the cream over it. 

Bananas, pecans, and figs. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 33 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold Turkey, pickled salmoo, fried clams, crackera 
and cheese, toast, peach sauce. Prune tartlets. 



TUESDAY. 

Breahfast, — Poached eggs on toast, hashed veal, cold 
snipe, chipped potatoes, Graham rolls, bread, chocolate 
and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Veal Broth. — 4 lbs. scrag of veal, and a bunch oi 
sweet herbs, simmer in 6 qts. of water; when half done 
skim, and add an onion. Add 2 oz. rice, parsley, celery 
pepper, and salt. 

Fresh Mackerel^ broiled. 

Boiled Leg of Lamh. — Caper sauce, with fried pars- 
nl|.s, hominy, sweet corn, and potatoes. 

Miroton of Veal, — Chop very fine cold dressed veal 
and ham, mix with a slice of bread soakcJ in milk, and 
squeezed dry, 2 onions chopped and browned, salt, pepper, 
and a little cream. Put all into a stewpan until hot, 
and well mixed, then add 1 or 2 eggs, butter a mould, 
and bake until it is brown. Serve with fresh gravy. 
2* 



84 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Dessert, 

Winibeg Pudding. — Pound and sift 5 crackers, and 
mix with a cup of boiling water, one of sugar, and the 
juice and peel of a lemon. Bake in a crust. 

Orange Custard. — The juice of 6 oranges, strained, 
and sweetened with loaf sugar ; stir over a slow fire till 
the sugar is dissolved, taking off the scum ; when nearly 
cold add the yolks of 6 eggs well beaten, and a pint ol 
cream (or milk.) Stir over the tire till it thickens, and 
serve in glasses. Double the quantity if required. 

Filberts, oranges, and raisins. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Broiled oysters, ham cake, cold lamb, rolls, wheat 
biscuit, (1 pt. sour milk, 1 teaspoonful soda, do. salt, ^ 
cup molasses, thicken with wheat meal. Take out 
enough for a biscuit with a spoon, and roll gently in 
flour.) Dried apple sauce, Apees cake, (1 lb. flour, \ 
lb. butter, do. powdered sugar, ^ glass of wine, a tea- 
spoonful cinnamon, cloves, and allspice, 3 of carraway 
seeds,) tea, and chocolate. 



WEDNESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Omelet with parsley, cold boiled ham 
mutton chops, stewed potatoes, steam toast, corn bread, 
tea and coffee, rolls. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 35 



Dinner. 

Soupe ^ la Flamande. — Take 2 canots, turnips, and 
onions, a small quantity of celery and lettuce, shred them 
in pieces, and stew slowly till tender with a teacup of 
gravy and a piece of butter. Then add a qt. of any sort 
of b^oth, and stew gently for an hour with salt, mace, a 
little sugar, and cayenne. Mix the yolks of 3 eggs well 
with i pt. of cream, (or milk,) and stir in just before it 
is served. 
Smelts. 

Roast Beef. — With beets, mashed potatoes, stewed 
celery, and canned tomatoes. 
Oyster Patties. 

Dessert, 

Balced Indian Pudding. — Take 6 eggs to 1 qt. milk, 
and 3 tablespoonfuls of meal. Bake ^ an hour. Boiled 
molasses sauce. 

Brandy Cherries. 

Macaroons. 

Oranges, and candied fruits. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Game p4te, veal cake, sardines, waffles, bread, jelly 
cake, grape jelly, plum cake, chocolate. 



86 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

TIIIRSDAY. 

Breakfast. — Ham and eggs, cold beef, pickled pigs' 
feet, buckwheat cakes, rolls, cream toast Graham, tea and 
coffee. 

Dinner. 

Turtle Maigre Sonp. — Use the turtle flesh (preserved 
in jars in a state of jelly) stewed up in a vegetable, or 
fish stock, instead of meat, in sufficient quantity to make 
it limpid. Season with Madeira wine, lemon, thyme, 
marjoram, and parsley ; also nutmeg, allspice, mace, 
cloves, pepper, and salt, ^ teaspoonful of curry powder, 
and a few truffles. 

Fried P orgies. 

Roast Canvass-hach Dicch, with onions, sweet corn, 
carrots, and potatoes. 

Fried Sweetbreads. 

Dessert. 

Apple Pie. 

Champagne Cream. — Beat the yolks of 6 eggs with 
powdered sugar till stiff, pour over it gradually, stewing 
all the time, a bottle of champagne cream. Cider will 
also do. 

Bananas, oranges, and pecans. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold chicken, Pate de fois gras, olives, steam toast, 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 37 

Graham bread, French bread, apple jelly, (pour 1 qt. of 
apple juice on 1 lb. fresh apples pared and cored, simmer 
till well broken, strain off the juice, and let it stand till 
cold. Then add 2 oz. isinglass, 9 oz. sugar, 2 lemons, 
rind and juice, and whites and shells of 8 eggs. Let it 
boil ^ of an hour, strain, and put in a mould), hot gin- 
gerbread, (1 pt. molasses, do. sour milk, | of a cup but- 
ter, a spoonful of ginger, and a little salt. Mix thick aa 
cake), tea. 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast. — Lamb chops, clam fritters, scrambled 
eggs, milk toast, corn bread, rolls, tea, and coflfee. 

Dinner. 

Oyster Soup. — Given in January. 

Boiled JSalihd^ melted butter. 

Curry of Chichen^ with rice, squash, and turnips. 

Cut up a raw chicken, put it in a stewpan with 2 oz. 
of butter, ^ an onion sliced thin, a few sprigs of parsley 
and thyme, and 2 oz. lean ham; let the whole stew 
gently a few minutes. Add a large spoonful curry 
powder, and a small one of flour. Shake the whole £ 
minutes over the fire, then put to it a pint of gravy oi 



38 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

water; let the whole simmer till the chicken is done 
then take it out, and rub the sauce through a sieve, boil 
it up, skim, and season well. 
Veal Fatties. 



Miroton of Apples. — Scald the apples, reduce to a 
pulp, and pile high on the dish in which they are to be 
served ; boil 1 teaspoonful of grated lemon-peel, and 6 
or 8 lumps of sugar in a teacup of water; then add the 
yolks of 3 eggs, and the white of 1 , i- oz. butter, a spoon- 
ful of flour, and 1 of brandy, mix the whole over the fire, 
and stir quite smooth. Pour it on the apples, then 
whisk the whites of the other 2 eggs to a froth, put 
them over the miroton just as it is going into the oven, 
and sift some sugar over it. Bake 10 or 15 minutes in 
a slow oven. 

Rhenish Cream. — Dissolve 1 oz. isinglass in 1 pt. hot 
water, let it stand till cold ; take the yolks of 5 eggs, the 
juice of 3 lemons, ^ pt. white wine, ^ lb. lump sugar. 
Stir all together, and let them boil gently till thick 
enough to put into moulds. 

Dates, oranges, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold stewed pigeons, cold ham, pickled pig's head, 
muf&ns, flour griddle-cakes, green grape preserves, feathei 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 39 

cake (3 cups raised dough, 2 of suger, 2 eggs, ^ cup 
warm milk, 1 cup butter, 1 teaspoonful soda, grate a 
lemon rind, stand near the fire till light), tea, and choco 
late. 



SATURDAY. 

BreahfoM. — Fresh cod fried, fried eggp, pickled 
tongue, corn beef hash, potatoes k la maitre d' hotel 
raised biscuit, toast, tea, and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Spring Soup. — Take all kinds of green vegetables, 
asparagus tops, spinach, lettuce, onions, etc., and stew 
thick in any good broth. 

Bahd Macherel. — Take off the heads, clean the fish, 
Jind replace the roes, rub with salt, pepper, and allspice. 
Pack the fish close in a deep baking-pan, cover with 
equal parts cold vinegar and water, and bake 1 hour in 
a slow oven. 

Mutton Keholled. — Cut a loin of mutton into steaks, 
take off the fat and skin ; mix a grated nutmeg with a 
little salt, pepper, crumbs, and herbs ; dip the steaks 
into the yolks of 8 eggs beaten, and sprinkle the mixture 
over them. Then place the steaks together as they were 
before cut, tie, and fasten on a spit, and roast before a 
quick fire. Set a dish under it, and baste with the 



40 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

liquor and a piece of butter. When done lay in a deep 
dish, and put over it, ^ pt. gravy, 2 spoonfuls ketchup 
and a teaspoonful of flour, first boiled and skimmed. 

Lobster Salad. — Mash with a wooden spoon the yolka 
of 9 eggs boiled hard, mix with h pt. sweet oil, (or cream) 
add 1 gill mixed mustard, ^ teaspoon cayenne, and 1 
teaspoon salt. Cut the lobster fine with lettuce, and a 
few minutes before it is to be eaten, mix the dressing 
with it thoroughly. 

Peach Pie, 

Arrotvroot Pudding. — 1 spoonful of powder mixed 
in 2 of cold milk ; pour on it 1 pt. boiling milk, in 
which have been dissolved 4 oz. butter and 2 of su- 
gar, stirring well. Add a little nutmeg and 5 Qgg^^ 
bake ^ an hour in a dish lined with paste. 

Oranges, bananas, and Madeira nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Potted veal, stewed lobster, cream toast, crackers 
and cheese, canned pears, rolls, tea. Fancy cakes. 



SUNDAY. 



Breakfast — Beefsteak, with mushroom sauce, cold 
potted pigeons, corn muffins, stejim toast, boiled eggs^ 
cold bread. Tea and cofiFee. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 41 

Dinner. 

Scots' Kail Soup. — 4 lbs. mutton to 1 gallon cold wa 
ter, and 2 oz. pearl barley ; stew until tender, with 2 
onions. Have ready the hearts of 2 cabbages chopped 
fine, put into the broth, and boil uncovered till reduced 
to 2 qts. Add only pepper and salt. 

Flounders Fried. 

Roast Partridges. — With spinach, salsify, and pota- 
toes. 

LamVs Head. — Parboil, and rub with the yolk of an 
Q^g^ cover thickly with herbs, crumbs of bread, butter 
and put in the oven. Mince the heart and liver, stew 
in a good gravy, adding a spoonful of ketchup. Make 
some forcemeat balls, place the mince in a dish with the 
head upon it, and garnish with the balls, sliced lemon, 
and pickles. 

Dessert. 

Cottage Pudding. — Break 1 egg in a pan, add a cup 
sugar, 1 teaspoon butter, 2 cream of tartar, 1 soda, a cup 
of milk, and 3 of flour. Pare and slice a lemon, and 
stir into the batter. Bake | of an hour, and eat with 
cold sauce. 

Prune Tarts. 

Figs, oranges, and nuts. 



42 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold chicken pie, sardines, cold lamb, hot biscuits., 
cream toast, crackers and cheese, apple jelly, oleycooks 
(from Washington Irving, — 1 pt. milk, i lb. butter, 2 
eggs, 1 tablespoonful brewer's yeast, i cup sugar, a little 
salt and nutmeg. Stand over night till very light, and 
fry in boiling lard.) Tea and chocolate. 



MONDAY. 



Breakfast. — Fresh shad broiled, poached eggs, corn 
bannock, cold roast veal, dry toast, rice cakes, rolls and 
bread. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Soup ^ la Bisque. — ^ lb. rice, and 12 crabs, (soft 
shell) ; boil in good broth, and when done pound, and rub 
through a sieve. Fill the heads of the crabs with fish 
stuffing, and add a little butter. 

Biuefis-h Broiled. 

Boast Veal, stuffed, with Bermuda potatoes, raw to 
matoes dressed, and asparagus. 

Lobster Plain. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 4S 

Dessert. 

Jelly Tarts of Puff Paste. 

Cocoanut Pudding. — Grate a cocoanut after taking ofl 
the brown skin, mix with 3 oz. white powdered sugar, and 
^ peel of a lemon ; mix well with milk, put in a tin lined 
with paste, and bake not too brown. 

Bananas, and nuts. 

Tea, or LuNcn. 

Veal cake, cold tongue, Graham dry toast, preserved 
pears, rolls, crackers and cheese, cup cake with almonds. 



TUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Veal hash, omelet, stewed potatoes, 
wheat gems, brown bread cream toast, rolls. Tea, and 
coffee, potted fish. 

Dinner. 

Blach Bean Soup. — Thicken a strong beef broth, 
strained, with black beans. 

Baked Shad. 

Roast Lamh^ mint sauce, with baked potatoes, aspar- 
agus, and spinach. 

Pigeon Pie. — Cut a nice rump steak into small pieces, 
and cover the bottom of a dish, add seasoning, and sweet 



44 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

herbs. Boil 2 eggs hard, chop the livers fine, add bread 
crumbs, butter, and seasoning, and stuff the pigeons. 
Put in with the steak, cover with water or gravy, and 
bake with a paste. 

Dessert. 

Apple Dumplings. — 1 large apple, quartered, cored, 
and put together, covered with a thin paste, and boiled 
till done. As many as are needed, serve with hot sauce. 

Chocolate Pudding. — Boil 1 pt. milk, dissolve in it 
1 oz, of chocolate, sweeten with loaf sugar, add the yolks 
of 8, and the whites of 4 eggs well beaten ; strain, and 
pour into a mould, buttered and papered ; steam for ^ 
an hour; let it settle for 10 minutes, and serve with the 
following sauce : boil h stick vanilla in 1 pt. milk till 
it is reduced one half; strain, sweeten, and thicken with 
arrowroot. 

Figs, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Ham sandwiches, (chop the ham fine, and season 
with mustard, pepper, and salt, spread between thin 
slices buttered bread,) cold game, minced codfish, rolls, 
toast, stewed prunes, kringles. (Beat well yolks of 8, 
and whites of 2 eggs, mix with 4 oz. butter, w^armed, 1 
lb. flour, and 4 oz. sugar to a paste. Roll into thick 
biscuits, and bake on tin plates. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 45 

WEDNESDAY. 

Breahfast. — 'QlvLQ fish, scrambled eggs, baked pota- 
toes, cold chicken, Indian griddle-cakes, rolls, tea and 
coffee. 

Dinner. 

Turnip Soup. — Scrape fine 6 large turnips into 2 qts. 
strong beef soup, with 2 onions fried in butter. Let it 
simmer slowly, then rub through a sieve till smooth. 

Boiled JIalihut, oyster sauce. 

JRoast Beef, with Yorkshire pudding, and vegetables. 
1 pt. boiling milk to a small loaf of bread, crumbed 
fine, 4 eggs, a little salt and flour. Bake in a tin under 
the drippings of the beef. 

Matelote of Fish. — Cut into small pieces any white 
fish, put into a stewpan with 1 oz. of butter to brown, 
adding ^ pt. wine, do. good gravy, spice, and seasoning, 
a sliced carrot and turnip. Take the fish out carefully, 
keep hot, and thicken the gravy with butter and flour, 
adding 6 button onions which have been scalded, the same 
of mushrooms and oysters, lemon-juice, and cayenne. 
Pour boiling hot on the fish. 

Dessert, 
Dried Apple Pie. 

Bice Custards. — Sweeten a pint of milk, and boil, 
sifting in ground rice till thick; take off the fire, and 



46 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

add 3 eggs, beaten; stir again over the fire for three 
minutes, and put into cups that have lain in cold water 
without wiping. When cold turn out, and pour soft 
custard around them, with currant jelly on the top of 
each one. 

Prunes, oranges, and candied fruits. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Mutton kidneys, fried. (Cut in thin slices, flour 
and fry quickly, serve in good gravy). Roast beef de- 
viled, sardines, apple fritters, (yolks of 6 eggs, whites of 
3 ; beat well and strain, then add 1 pt. milk, a little 
salt, ^ nutmeg grated, and a glass of brandy. Mix into 
a thick batter with flour, slice the apples in round, taking 
out the core, dust with sugar, (let them stand an hour or 
two) and dip each slice in batter, frying in boiling lard.) 
Kolls, toast, grape jelly, chocolate. 

THURSDAY. 

Breakfast — Codfish balls, fried Indian pudding, 
boiled eggs, cold lamb, milk toast, rolls, tea, and cofl^ee. 

Dinner. 

Chicken Soup, — Boiled, strained, with rice and sea- 
soning. 

Spanish Mackerel. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 4" 

Roast Ducks^ with asparagus, lettuce, and tomatoes, 
currant jellj. 

Breaded Veal Ctitlets. 

Dessert. 

Brandt/ Pudding. — Line a mould with stoned raisins 
or dried cherries, then with thin slices of French roll, 
next to which put macaroons, then again fruit, rolls, aud 
cakes, till the mould be full, sprinkling in by degrees 2 
wine-glasses of brandy. Beat 4 eggs, put to a pint of 
milk or cream, lightly sweetened, i a nutmeg, and the 
rind of ^ a lemon grated. Let the liquid sink into the 
solid part, then tie tight with a floured cloth, and boil 1 
hour. Keep the mould right side up. Serve with sauce. 

Cream Fritters. — One and a half pts. of flour to 1 
pt. of milk ; beat to a froth with 6 eggs ; add 1 pt 
cream, ^ nutmeg, a teaspoonful salt, mix well, and fry iu 
small cakes. 

Bananas and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Roast oysters, cold miroton of veal, minced fresh fish, 
Boston crackers, with anchovy sauce, (soak the crackers 
split in cold water, butter and spread on the sauce 
thickly.) Muffins, bread, quince marmalade, sponge 
cake, (1 cofiFee-cup sugar, do. flour, 4 eggs.) Tea and 
cocoa. 



48 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

FRIDAY. 

Breakfast. — Shad roes fried brown, omelet with pars- 
ley, lamb chops, chipped potatoes, brown bread, rolls, 
tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

New England Chowder. — Fry thin slices of pork in a 
deep pot; lay in the head and shoulders of a fresh cod, 
cut in pieces, put in layers, the pork between ; season 
with pepper, ^alt, and a few cloves ; fill up with water 
and boil ; when nearly done add a pint of milk, and 6 
Boston crackers split open. 

Broiled Shad. 

Roast CliicJcens, with potatoes, asparagus, and toma- 
toes. 

Ragout of Veal. — Fry 2 lbs. of veal till brown, then 
put into a stew-pan with 6 onions, pepper and mixed 
spice, add boiling water, and let it stew slowly for 4 
hours. Serve with pickled walnuts, or capers, in the 
gravy. 

Dessert. 

Almond Pudding. — Two and-a-half oz. white bread 
crumbs, steeped in a pint of cream, (or milk) ^ pt. 
blanched almonds pounded to a paste, with a little 
water, yolks of 6 eggs and whites of 3, beaten ; mix all 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 49 

together, and add 3 oz. sugar, and 1 oz. beaten butter. 
Stir over the fire till thick, and bake in a puff paste. 

Blueherry Pie. — Use canned fruit. 

Oranges, almonds, and raisins. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Clam fritters, cold tongue, potted fish, stewed pota- 
toes, hot brown bread, steam toast, preserved plums, bans 



SATURDAY. 

Breahfast. — Fresh trout, fried chicken, with cream, 
water cresses, scrambled eggs, Graham biscuit, corn 
bread, rolls, tea and cofi'ee. 

Dinner. 

Mullagatawnee Soup. — Six onions, and ^ lb. butter, 
pound well, and add 3 spoonfuls curry powder, a little 
cayenne and salt. Beat all together with some India 
pickle and Hour, and stir into 3 qts. of strong beef soup. 
^_"?t it boil lialf an hour, rub through a sieve, and serve 
with rice. 

Baked Blwjish. 

Beef d la mode^ with turnips, carrots and potatoes. 
A round of beef, weighing 20 lbs., rub with salt, and tie 
with tape; chop the marrow from the bone, \ lb. suet, 
3 



60 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

herbs, thyme, and parsley ; add 2 grated nutmegs, ^ oz. 
cloves, do. mace, tablespoon pepper, do. salt, and 2 
glasses Madeira wine; cut 1 lb. pork in small pieces, 
make incisions in the beef and slip in, thtn lay in a deep 
dish, and cover with the seasoning. Bake or stew slowly 
(with water in the dish) 12 hours. If to be eaten hot, 
begin the night before. Add wine and a beaten egg in 
the gravy. 

Sweetbreads J fried. 

Dessert. 

Bread Pudding. — One pt. bread-crumbs, covered with 
milk, add cinnamon, lemon-peel, and grated nutmeg ; put 
them on a gentle fire until the crumbs are well soaked. 
Take out the cinnamon, and lemon-peel, beat the milk 
and crum; s together, add 4 eggs well beaten, 1 oz. but- 
ter, 2 oz. sugar, ^ lb. currants, and boil it one hour. 

Pine-apples, and macaroons. 

Oranges, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Oyster pie, cold corned beef, eggs on toast, cranberry 
jelly, biscuit, Turk's cap,, sponge cake. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 51 



SUNDAY. 



Hreak/ast. — Veal chops, with tomato sauce, fried po 
tat(;es. cold ham, poached eggs, corn banuock, bread 

tea and coflfee. 

Dinner. 

Oyster Soup. 

Fried Perch. 

Boiled Chichen^ with potatoes, asparagus, macaroni, 
and rice. 

Broiled Pigeons. — Cut the pigeons down the back? 
flatten, and truss. Egg them both sides, season, dip in 
chopped herbs and crumbs, a little warmed butter 
sprinkled over them, and broil a light brown. 



Tipsy Pudding. — Lay in a dish slices of sponge or 
pound cake, well soaked in brandy, and pour over them 
a rich soft custard. 

Jam Tarts. 

Pine-apples and oranges. 

Tea, or Luncil 

Cold k la mode beef, broiled ham, mished potato 
cakes fried, cheese, crackers, preserves, pot .-' cake with 
fruit. 



52 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 



31AJY. 



MONDAY. 

Breahfast. — Fried perch, potted game, water-cresses^ 
clam fritters, boiled eggs, rolls, bread, tea, and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Tomato Soup. — Cut up 2 onions, and fry them in 
butter ; when the onions are brown, add to them a dozen 
tomatoes, from which you have squeezed the water. Put 
in a pot with a turnip, 2 lettuces, a piece of lean ham, a 
stick of celery, some herbs, spice, and a piece of butter. 
Let it simmer for h an hour, stirring occasionally, then 
fill up with stock, and allow it to boil gently 2 hours. 
Put in 2 French rolls crumbed, and when done rub 
through a colander. 

Broiled Salmon. 

Leg of Lamh boiled, melted butter, with asparagus, 
potatoes, lettuce, and tomatoes. 

Hard-Shell Crabs. 

Bessert. 

Soft Cmtards, baked in Paste. 

Montagu Budding. — Half lb. chopped suet, 4 table 
spoonfuls of flour, 4 eggs, and 4 spoonfuls of milk mixed 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 43 

into a batter , add | lb. stoned raisins, a little sugar 
and boil 4 hours. 

Pine-apple, bananas, and nuts. 

Tea, or Luncu. 

Fried shad roes, game pate, German toast. (Take tha 
remainder of a fricassee or ragout, chop fine, add a few 
herbs with parsley, and mix with 1 or 2 eggs, accord in </ 
to quantity. Put it on the fire with gravy, and let it 
reduce or thicken. When cold, spread thickly on toast, 
brush lightly with beaten egg, sprinkle bread-crumbs on 
each piece, and bake in the oven.) Rolls, bread, sliced 
pice-apple with sugar, bread cake. (Take raised dough 
for one loaf, and knead well into it 2 oz. butter, do. 
sugar, and 8 oz. currants. Warm the butter in a cup of 
milk.) Tea and chocolate. 



TUESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Broiled spring chicken, fried potatoes, 
cold pigeon pie, brown bread, raised biscuit. Tea and 
cofi'ee. 



Di 



NNER. 



Veal Brofk— Stew a knuckle of veal, 5 lbs. in 3 qt& 
water, with an onion, 2 blades of mace, ahead of celery 



54 WHAT SHALL WE EAT t 

parsley, pepper and salt. Let it sinimer gently till re- 
duced to 2 qts. Take out the meat, and serve separately ; 
add 2 oz. boiled rice to the broth. 

Baked stuffed Shad. 

Breaded Lamb Chops^ with asparagus, potatoes, and 
green peas. 



Cold Tongue, 



Dessert. 



Rhubarb Pie. 

Flemish Cream. — Dissolve ^ oz. isinglass in a pint of 
water, strain it, and add to ^ pt. cream. Add a glass ot 
brandy, color with currant jelly, whisk to a froth, and 
put into a mould. 

Madeira nuts and oranges. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold lamb, lobster salad, sardines, vegetable toast. 

Take stewed vegetables, and make it into a puree; add 
more seasoning, the yolk of an egg, and thicken over the 
fire. Spread on toast, add bread-crumbs, brush with egg, 
and bake.) Green gage preserves, buns, (| lb. flour, ^ 
lb. sugar, 1 lb. butter, melted in a little warm water, 6 
ipoonfuls rose water, and ^ pt. yeast. Make a light 

lough, and add caraway seeds.) Tea and cocoa. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 55 

WEDNESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Veal chops breaded, broiled shad, stewed 
potatoes, pickled tongue, water-cresses, rice cake, 
Graham biscuit, bread. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

White Soup. — Boil fowls to a jelly, pound the meat 
in a mortar, and add to the broth. Take 2 qts. of this 
stock to 4 of water, season, and thicken with 1 lb. rice 
flour. 

Stewed Lolster. 

Chicken Pot Pie. — Cut the chicken in small pieces, 
stew slowly, and thicken the gravy with stirred butter 
and flour. Make a paste of cream tartar and soda, put 
on the top, cover tight, and stew ^ an hour. 

Boiled Corned leef. 

Dessert. 

Cocoanut Pie. — Grate the white part, mix with milk, 
and boil slowly ten minutes ; allow 1 qt. milk to 1 lb. 
cocoanut, 8 eggs, 4 spoonfuls sugar, a glass of wine, a 
small cracker pounded fine, and 2 spoonfuls melted butter. 
Bake in deep plates lined with puff paste. 

Butch Butter. — Two oz. isinglass dissolved in a pint 
of water, with a lemon peel. Add a pint white wine, 



56 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

the juice of 3 lemons, yolks of 8 eggs well beaten 
sweeten, make quite hot, and strain into moulds. 
Almonds, raisins, and bananas. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold roast veal, corn pone, sweetbreads fried, cheese 
and assorted crackers, preserved ginger, Queen Cake, (1 
lb. powdered sugar, 1 lb. butter, 14 oz. flour, 10 eggs, 1 
wine-glass brandy and wine mixed, 12 drops essence ol 
lemon, 1 teaspoonful cinnamon and cloves, and 1 nutmeg.) 



THUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Boiled ham and poached eggs, chipped 
potatoes, cold roast beef, corn bread, water cresses, dry 
toast, fried shad roes. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Sago Soup. — Any white soup thickened with sago. 

Broiled Fresh Mackerel. 

Roast Lanib^ mint sauce, with potatoes, spinach, and 
raw tomatoes. 

Beef Collops. — Cut tie inside of a sirloin into circu- 
lar shapes, the size and thickness of a quarter of a dollar, 
flour, and fry them ; sprinkle with pepper, salt, chopped 
parsley make a gravy, and serve with tomato sauce 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 51 

Dessert, 

Twpioci Pudding. 

Brown Bread Ice. — Grate stale brown bread, and 
Boak in cream ; sweeten, and freeze. 
Bananas and prunes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Ham toast. (Grate or pound cold ham, mix with 
the yolk of an egg and a little cream, warm over the fire, 
and serve hot on toast,) corned beef hash, corn bread, 
crackers, and cheese, stewed prunes, steam toast, maca- 
roons. Tea. 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast. — Broiled shad, stewed clams, pickled pig'a 
head, corn muffins, hashed lamb, bread, rolls. Ooflee. 

Dinner. 

Clam Soup. 

Bhcefish, Broiled, 

Stewed Veal^ with asparagus, spinach, and potatoes. 

Lihster Salad. — Dress like chicken salad. 

Dessert. 

Gloucester Pudding. — Take 3 eggs, same weight in 
3* 



58 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

butter and flour each, 5 oz. sugar, and 12 bitter almonds 
powdered, beat well, and bake J an hour in cups. 

JTelly Tarts, 

Fruit and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold boiled ham, raw oysters, sardines, muffins 
toast, preserved damsons, black plum cake. (1 lb. flour, 
do butter, do. white sugar, 12 eggs, 2 lbs. raisins, 2 lbs. 
currants, 2 tablespoonfuls mixed spice, 2 nutmegs pow- 
dered, a glass wine, brandy, and rose water, and 1 lb 
citron.) Tea and chocolate. 



SATURDAY. 
Breakfast. — Minced veal on toast, cold birds, gems, 
boiled eggs, brown bread. Tea and coff'ee. 

Dinner. 

Beef Soup with Vermicelli. 

Bass, Boiled. 

Boast Beef, with potatoes, spinach, and green peas. 

Stewed Pigeons. 

Dessert. 

Cranberry and Bice Jelly. — Strain the berries after 
boiling, and thicken with ground rice, sweeten, boil gently 
and serve with cream. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 59 

Snow Cream. — Put to a quart of cream (or milk) the 
whites of 3 eggs well beaten, 4 spoonfuls sweet wine, 
sugar to taste, and whip to a froth. 
Pine-apple and nuts. 

Tea, on Lunch. 
Cold quail, roast beef, Anchovy toast, Turk's cap, ojsr 
ter patties, waffles, rolls, quince jelly, sponge cake. 



SUNDAY. 

Breahfast. — Omelet, cold tongue, pickled salmon, 
brown bread, milk toast, broiled tripe, biscuit, bread. 
Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Spring Soup. — Strong veal or mutton broth, thickened 
with greens, asparagus, etc. 

Trout. 

Roast Ducks, with peas, asparagus, and rice. 

Beefsteak, with Mushrooms, 

Cold Mam. 

Dessert. 

Bahewell Pudding. — The yolks of 4 eggs and whites of 
2 eggs, with ^ lb. powdered sugar, and ^ clarified butter. 
When well mixed, stir over the fire, till it thickens. 
Line a dish with pufi" paste, and put in a layer of candied 



60 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

peel about an inch thick ; then pour the mixture on it 
and hake in a slow. oven. 

Italian Cream. — Juice of a lemon, grated rind of 2, 
and 1 qt. cream. Stir over the fire till thick. 

Chocolate bonbons and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Omelet with parsley, clam fritters, milk toast, pdto 
de foie gras, cold meat, veal cake, pound cake, preserved 
cherries. Tea. 



jxj]>rE. 



MONDAY. 

Breahfast — Fried trout, pickled tongue, potted game, 
steam toast, Graham biscuit, boiled eggs, cucumbers. 
Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Oreen Pea Soup. — Boil 1 qt. fresh peas in salt water, 
with a handful of parsley and sorrel, until perfectly ten- 
der. Drain, and pound in a mortar, and mix gradually 
into veal or beef broth. Season with pepper and salt, 
fry some boiled onions and lettuce, with bread cut into 
dice, and put into the soup before serving, also a few 
heads of boiled asparagus. 



•WHAT SHALL WE EAT? Q'l 

Boiled Salmon, melted butter. 

Broiled Chicken, with peas, string beans, and potatoes. 

Fricandeh of Veal. — Chop the fat and lean of 3 lbs. 
of a loin of veal very fine ; then soak a French roll in 
some milk ; beat 3 eggs ; add pepper, salt, and mace. 
Make the mixture somewhat in the shape of a small 
chicken, rub it with egg and bread-crumbs, fry until 
brown, pour oflf the fat, boil water in the pan, and stew 
the fricaudels in this gravy; two will make a handsome 
dish ; thicken the gravy. 

Dessert. 

Macaroni Pudding. — Simmer 1 or 2 oz. of pipe maca 
roni in a pint of milk, with a bit of lemon and cinnamon, 
till tender ; put it into a dish with milk, 2 or 3 yolks of 
eggs, but only 1 white ; sugar, nutmeg, a spoonful of 
peach water, and ^ glass raisin wine. Bake with paste 
around the edges. 

Bohemian Cream. — Rub a pint of fresh strawberries 
through a sieve, add 6 oz. powdered sugar, the juice 
of a lemon, 1^ oz. isinglass dissolved in ^ pt. water. 
Mix all together, and set on the ice, stirring till it 
begins to set. Whip a pint of cream to a froth, and stir 
into the strawberries, letting the mould remain on ice till 
wanted. Then put it into warm water for an instant 
and turn out. 

Cherries and nuts. 



62 what shall we eat ? 

Tea, ok Lunch. 
Kadishes, cucumbers, cold veal, potted fish, broiled 
smoked salmon, muffins, rolls, sponge cake, strawberries. 
Tea. 



TUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Cold birds, omelet, minced salt fish, 
cream toast, radishes, water-cresses, rolls, tea and cofieo, 
strawberries. 

Dinner. 

Gumbo Soup. 

Trout. 

Roast Veal, with asparagus, lettuce, peas, and pota- 
toes. 

Pigeons^ with Peas. — Put the pigeons into a stewpan 
with a little butter, just to stiffen ; then take them out, 
put some small slices of bacon into the pan, give a fine 
color, draw them, and add a spoonful of flour to the but- 
ter; then put in the pigeons and bacon, moisten by de- 
grees with gravy, and bring it to the consistency of 
sauce ; boil it ; season with parsley, young onions, and let 
it simmer ; when half done put in a quart of peas ; 
shake them often ; and when ready thicken the peas with 
flour and butter. There should be no gravy left. 



•A^HAT SHALL WE EAT? 63 

Dessert. 

Quaking Pudding. — Scald 1 ([t. cream (or milk) ; 
and when almost cold add 4 eggs well beaten, 1^ 
Bpoonfuls flour, some nutmeg, and sugar; tie it close 
in a buttered cloth; boil 1 hour, and serve with 
wine sauce. 

Creme au Marasquin. — Whip a pint of cream until 
it thickens, add powdered sugar, a glass of maraschino, 
and 1 oz. isinglass dissolved in water. The latter 
must be liquid, but cold. 

Strawberries and cream, nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold boiled ham, cucumbers, dried beef with cream 
biscuit, rolls, strawberries, bread, cake. Tea and oho 
colate. 



WEDNESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Minced veal, pickled shad roes, potted 
game, corn muffins, dry toast, radishes, rolls, scrambled 
eggs. Tea aud coffee. 

Dinner. 
Mutton Broth. 
Baked Pike, caper sauce. 

Mutton Pillan, with peas, beans, and potatoes. Take 
i lb. ne:k of mutton, boil it well, then cut it into small 



64 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

pieces, and fry it in butter ; then let it simmer ^ an houi 
with 2 cups boiled rice, a few cloves, a little cinnamon, 
and some cardamoms. 
Squabs, roasted. 

Dessert. 

Plum Pudding, not rich. — Four oz. each of grated 
bread, suet, and stoned raisins, mix with 2 well-beaten 
eggs, 4 spoonfuls of milk, and a little salt. Boil 4 
hours. A spoonful of brandy, sugar, and nutmeg, in 
melted butter, may be used as sauce. 

•Pasplerry Cream. — Boil 1 oz. isinglass in Ih pts. 
milk; strain through a hair sieve; boil Ig- pts. cream; 
when cool add ^ pt. raspberry juice to it ; then add the 
milk, stir well, sweeten, and add a glass of brandy. 
Whisk it till nearly cold, then put in a mould. 

Strawberries and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold tongue, miroton of veal, cucumberS; radishes, 
strawberries, pound cake, waffles, toast, rolls, tea and 
chocolate. 



THURSDAY. 
Breakfast. — Boiled chicken^ clam fritters, muffins, 
steam toast, hot brown bread, cucumbers, strawberries, 
tea and coflFee, boiled eggs. 



what shall we eat? 65 

Dinner. 

Tomato Soup. 

Lobster, 

Roast Beef, with peas, lima beans, and potatoes. 

Missoles. — Pound cold meat, season, and mix with a 
little good gravy and butter. Roll paste into oval 
pieces, lay a spoonful on one end, double it over, press 
the edges together, and scallop them. Brush over with 
yolk of egg, and fry brown. 

Dessert. 
Cherry Pie. 

Orange Butter. — Boil 6 eggs hard, beat them in a 
mortar with 2 oz. fine sugar, 3 oz. butter, and 2 oz. blanched 
almonds, beaten to a paste ; moisten with orange-flower 
water, and when all is mixed rub it through a colander 
on a dish. Serve with sweet biscuits. 
Strawberries, pine-apple, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Potted shrimps, dried chipped beef, milk toast, rolls, 
corn pone, strawberries, radishes, chocolate. 



FRIDAY. 
Breakfast. — Cold roast beef, smelts, omelet, chipped 
potatoes, rice cakes, Graham bread, water cresses, rad- 
ishes, cucumbers, tea and coffee. 



66 what shai,l we eat? 

Dinner. 

Sovp a la Bisque. 
Fresh Mackerel. 

Roast Lamb, with peas, asparagus, tomatoes, and 
lettuce. 

Sweetlreada. 

Lohster Pie. — Cut 2 boiled lobsters in pieces, and lay 
in a dish ; beat the spawn in a mortar ; put the shells on 
to boil in some water, with 3 spoonfuls of vinegar, pep- 
per, salt, and some mace. A large piece of butter 
rolled in flour must be added when the good is obtained. 
Pour into the dish strained, strew in some crumbs, and 
put a paste over all. Bake only till the paste is done. 

Dessert. 

Rhuharh Pie. 

Lemon Syllalub. — Grate the peel of a lemon with 
lump sugar, and dissolve the sugar in f pt, of wine ; add 
the juice of half a lemon, and \ pt. cream. Whisk the 
whole until properly thick, and put into glasses. 

Strawberries, cherries, and bonbons. 

Tea, or Lunch 

Kidney Toast. — (Take cold veal kidneys, cut in small 
pieces; pound .t.he .fat in a mortar, with salt, pepper, and 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 6? 

a K>7^ed onion. Bind all together with beaten whites 
of a^^gs, heap it on toast, cover with yolks beaten, sprin- 
kle with bread crumbs, and bake in the oven.) Salt fish 
broiled, cold ham, raised biscuit, corn-bread, fruit, cucum- 
bers, and radishes. Lemon cheese-cakes.— (Mix 4 oz. 
sifted lump sugar, with 4 oz. butter ; then add yolks of 
2 and white of 1 egg, the rind of 3 lemons chopped 
fine and the juice of 1|, 1 Savoy biscuit, some blanched 
almonds, and 3 spoonfuls of brandy. Bake in patty 
pans.) Tea and cocoa. 



SATURDAY. 

Breakfast —Broiled fresh salmon, beefsteak, fried po- 
tatoes, cream toast, Graham biscuit, potted tongue, rolls, 
tea and cofi"ee. 

Dinner. 

Bean Soup, 
Soles, fried. 

Boiled Leg of Mutton, with lettuce, peas, spinach, and 
potatoes. 

Beefsteaks, with mushrooms. 
Chicken Patties. 

Dessert. 

Sweetmeat Budding.— Cover a dish with thin puflF 
paste, and lay in it 1 oz. each of candied lemon, orange, 



08 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

and citron, sliced thin. Beat the yolks of 8 and whites 
of 2 eggs, and mix with 8 oz. butter warmed, and some 
white sugar. Pour all over the sweetmeats, and bake 
1 hour in a moderate oven. 

Flemish Cream, — Dissolve ^ oz. isinglass in 1 pt. 
water, strain it to \ pt cream ; add 1 glass brandy, and 
whisk to a light froth. Put in a mould. 

Cherries and candied fruits. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold lamb, sandwiches of ham, sardines, waffles, dry 
toast, rolls, cucumbers, strawberries, small pound-cakes, 
tea. 



SUNDAY. 
Breahfast. — Broiled kidneys, with tomato sauce, cold 
veal, scrambled eggs, Graham bread, gems, rolls, bread, 
tea and coffee, radishes. 

Dinner. 

Asparagus Soup. — To 2 qts. of good beef or veal 
broth, put 4 onions, 2 turnips, and some sweet herbs, 
with the white parts of a hundred young asparagus. If 
large, half the quantity will do. Let them simmer till 
tender enough to rub through a tammy, then strain and 
season, adding boiled tops of asparagus. 

Boiled Salmon. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 69 

CMchjis ct la Carmelite^ with peas, beans, and pota 
toi/s. Put a piece of butter, size of a walnut, in a stew- 
pan ; as it melts dredge in flour, and when well mixed 
add a teacup of milk. Cut up the chickens and add 
them, with pepper, an onion, and mace. Stew till tender, 
adding milk and water, if too dry. Take out the chick- 
ens, and cover with chopped parsley and lemon-juice 
mixed ; thicken the sauce, and add a glass of white-wine. 

Beefsteak, broiled. 

Dessert. 

Mother Eve's Puddifig. — Grrate % lb. bread ; mix with 
same quantity chopped suet, the same of apples and cur- 
rants ; mix with these 4 eggs, and the rind of half a 
lemon shred fine. Boil in a shape 3 hours, and serve 
with sauce. 

French Flummery. — Boil slowly 2 oz. isinglass shav- 
ings in a quart of cream, 15 minutes. Stir, and sweeten 
with loaf sugar; add a spoonful of rose-water, and one 
of orange-flower water. Strain into a form. 

Cherries, strawberries, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Ham cake, cold corned beef, minced salt fish, crackera 
and cheese, toast, corn bannock, biscuit, macaroons, 
strawberries, cucumbers, tea. 



70 WHAT SIIALl WE EAT? 

JULY. 

MONDAY. 

Breakfast. — Sweetbreads fried, potted fish, law to- 
matoes sliced, fried potatoes, cucumbers, creaia toast, 
rolls, water-cresses. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Vegetable Soup. — Veal or beef broth, with all sorts 
of vegetables cut small. 

Boiled Codjish., with sauce. 

Boiled Chickens. — With tomatoes, potatoes roasted, 
peas, and green corn. 

Beefsteak Pudding. — Take 1^ lb. of the inside of a 
sirloin, beat it tender, cut thin, and divide into small 
slices, with 2 kidneys. Season with pepper, salt, and 
chopped parsley, roll in paste, and boil 3 hours. When 
done, have ready strong beef-gravy, with mushroom 
ketchup in it, make a hole in the paste, and pour it into 
the pudding. 

Dessert. 

Cherry Pudding. 

Delicate dish. — Beat whites of eggs with currant 
jelly, to a solid froth, and serve with cream and sugar. 
Raspberries, cherries, and nuts. 



wftat shall we eat? 71 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold tongue, sardines, veal cake, cucumbers, rasp- 
berries, muffins, toast, bread, cake, cherries. Tea. 



TUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Spring chickens, fried, with cream sauce ; 
dry toast, rice cakes, raw tomatoes dressed, cold corned 
beef, cucumbers, fruit, tea and coftee, rolls. 
Dinner. 

Tomato Soup. — Beef soup with tomatoes pulped or 
shredded, and well seasoned. 

Salmon, boiled. 

Fillet of Veal, stuffed, with beans, tomatoes, and 
potato loaves. Mash the potatoes without milk, make 
them into conical loaves with butter to hold them, and 
brown under the meat. 

nice Croquettes. — Boil 6 oz. rice in broth, let it stew 
till done, then work it well with a spoonful of white 
sauce, 2 of grated cheese, and a little pepper. When 
of proper consistence, make the rice into shapes, hollowing 
them in the hand like cups; then fill them with any 
kind of minced meat, close the end to contain It, and 
cover well with the following mixture : 2 spoonfuls grat- 
ed cheese, with 4 of bread crumbs, stuck together with 
yolks of eggs ; fry a light brown. 



72 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Dessert. 
Rasplerry Pie. 
Soft Boiled Custard. 
Cherries, and bonbons. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold chicken pie, broiled smoked salmoii, raspberries 
and cherries, waffles, corn bread, bread, cucumbers, fruit- 
cake. 



WEDNESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Lamb cutlet breaded, cold ham, omelet 
with parsley, steam toast, rolls, bread, corn pone, cucum- 
bers, and fruit. 

Dinner. 

Gree7i Com Soup. — Veal broth with 2 ears of green 
corn grated into it. 

Bluefish Broiled. 

Roast Chickens^ with corn, beans, peas, and potato 
omelet. Mashed potato, mixed with 4 eggs, well sea- 
soned, and fried. 

Calves'* Brains. — Cut prepared brains into slices ^ an 
inch thick ; flour, egg, and bread-crumb them ; fry a nic€ 
brown, and serve with tomato sauce. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 73 



Gooselerry Pudding. — Stew gooseberries till they 
will pulp, then press a pint of the juice through a coarse 
sieve, and beat it with 3 eggs well beaten, 1^ oz. butter, 
and enough sugar to sweeten it. Add a few bread- 
crumbs, and bake in dish with a crust round it. 

Almond Ctistard. — Boil 2 or 3 bitter almonds in a 
pint of milk or cream, with a stick of cinnamon, a piece 
of lemon peel, and 8 lumps of sugar ; let it simmer ; then 
strain it, and stir till cold. Add the yolks of 6 eggs 
beaten, 1 oz. of sweet almonds beaten fine in rose water, 
and stir over the fire till of a proper thickness. Do not 
boil. Raspberries, cherries, and chocolate caramels. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Broiled ham, dried beef chipped, biscuit, crackers 
and cheese, cucumbers stewed. (Peel and slice thick, 
stew with salt and pepper, and simmer slowly in a little 
broth or butter; add a little flour before serving.) 
Raspberries, sponge cake, anchovy, toast. Tea and 
chocolate. 



THURSDAY. 

Breakfast — Minced salmon with cream, cold chicken, 
corn muffins, rolls, toast, cucumbers, and fruit. Tea and 
coffee. 

4 



74 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Dinner. 

Summer Soup. — Take 2 cucumbers, 12 onions, 3 po 
tatoes, 1 lettuce, and a head of white cabbage ; fry 
together in butter ; then stew 3 hcurs in 3 pts. stock ; 
add a little mint, parsley, and a pint of green peas ; let it 
stew 2 hours more ; press it through a seive, and thicken 
with butter and flour. 

Trout. 

Roast Lamh, mint sauce, with corn, peas, potatoes 
stewed, and maccaroni with cheese. 

Chicken Pudding. — Fricassee 2 young chickens, 
season with mushroom powder, mace, and salt. Make 
gravy of the giblets and a bit of meat, put 2 spoonfuls 
into the paste. Boil 2 hours, and put the rest of the 
gravy into or under the pudding. 

Dessert. 

Rice Custards, Strawlerry Jelly. — Boil f lb. loaf 
sugar in a pint of water 20 minutes, pour hot ovei 
a quart of picked strawberries, and let them stand over 
night. Clarify 1h oz. isinglass in a pint of water, drain 
the syrup from the berries, adding the juice of a lemon. 
When the isinglass is nearly cold mix all together, add 
more sugar if wanted, and put it into moulds. Set on 
the ice. 

Raspberries and almonds. 



WHAT SB ALL WE EAT? 7g 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Potted fish, broiled kidneys, minced salt fish, Vegeta 
hie Ragout. (Cut any kinds of cold vegetables into 
slices, put in a stewpan with pepper, salt, a little broth, 
and a piece of butter, and stir till quite hot). Cu- 
cumbers and fruit, corn pone, rolls, toast. Coffee Cahes. 
(1 lb. flour. \ lb. butter, do. sugar, 1 Qgg^ 1 oz. car- 
away seeds; mix with warm milk and a spoonful 
rose water; roll out tbin, and bake on little tins.) 
Tea and chocolate. 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast. — Broiled beefsteak, trout, stewed potatoes, 
pickled salmon, hot brown bread, rolls, tea and cofiee, 
Kedgeree. — Boil 2 tablespoonfuls of rice, add any fish 
previously cooked (salmon preferable), nicely picked , 
beat up an egg well, and stir it in just before serving. 

Dinner. 
Macaroni Soup. 

Flounders. 

Fillet of JBeef^ with corn, peas, beans, and tomatoes. 

Corned Beef. 

Dessert. 

Almond Pudding. — Take 2^- oz. bread crumbs, and 
steep them in a pint of cream, (or milk), then pound ^ 



76 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

pint of blanched almonds to a paste, with some water 
beat the yolks of 6 eggs, and whites of 3 ; mix all 
together, and add 3 oz. sugar, and 1 of beaten butter 
Thicken over the fire, and bake in a puff paste. 

Blancmange. 

Raspberries, cherries, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold lamb, sardines, omelet, fried bacon, pate de foie 
gras, waffles, toast, berries, cucumbers, pound cake, choc- 
olate. 



SATURDAY. 

Breakfast. — Veal cutlets, potted game, dropped eggs 
on toast, steamed toast, broiled ham, rolls, tea and coffee, 
fruit. 

Dinner. 

Rice Soup. — Take white stock, season it, and use 1^ 
lbs. of rice to 2 qts. of broth. 

Soles. 

Boiled Mutton, caper sauce, with roasted potatoes, 
peas, and corn. 

Chichen Fatties. 

Dessert. 

Lemon Jelly. — Clarify 1^ oz. isinglass in a pint of 
water; add ^ lb. loaf sugar, and the rind of 2 lemons, 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 1) 

out thin. Strain the juice of 4 lemons, and stir into the 
cool sugar and isinglass. Take out the peel, and pour 
into forms. 

Berry Pie. 

Fruit and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold corned beef, broiled mackerel, toasted cheese, 
muffins, toast, rolls, berries, Harrison cake, tea. 



SUNDAY. 
Breakfast. — Codfish balls, broiled fresh salmon 
boiled eggs, gems, fruit, rolls, bread, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 
Chicken Broth. 
Salmon. 

Roast Beef^ with potatoes, peas, tomatoes, and beans. 
Sweetbreads y fried. 



Arrowroot Pudding. 

Snow Cream. — Put to a quart of cream the whites 
of 3 eggs, well beaten, 4 spoonfuls of sweet wine, sugar 
to taste, and a bit of lemon-peel. Whip to a froth, take 
out the peel, and serve in a dish. 

Early apples, and nuts. 



78 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Salt fish broiled, cold mutton, cheese, coru bread 
Turk's cap, raspberries and cherries, cucumbers, and 
radishes, toast, ham cake, chocolate cakes, tea. 



AXJOXJ^T. 



MONDAY. 



Brealifasi. — Broiled halibut, cold tongue, stewed po- 
tatoes, raw sliced tomatoes, omelet, rolls, dry toast, cu- 
cumbers, fruit, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

VegetaUe Marrow Soup. — Boil the marrow and strain, 
then add to beef or veal broth, thicken with 2 spoonfuls 
of arrowroot, and a little cream. Do not allow it to boil 
after the latter is added. 

Stewed Codfish. — Cut in slices an inch thick, lay in a 
large stewpan, and season with salt, pepper, a bunch of 
herbs, an onion, | pt. white-wine, and \ pt. water. Cover 
close, and let it simmer five minutes, then squeeze in the 
juice of a lemon, a piece of butter size of an egg, rolled 
in flour, and a blade of mace. Let it stew slowly till 
done, and take out the herbs and onions. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? '79 

Chicken Fillan^ with squash, corn, beans, and -pota- 
toes. 

Baked Calves'' Head. — Wash the head, and place in a 
large earthen dish, on large iroQ skewers, laid across the 
top of the dish ; cover it with bread crumbs, grated nut- 
meg, chopped sweet herbs, a little fine-cut lemon, and 
flour ; thick pieces of butter in the eyes, and all over 
the head, then flour it again ; put in the dish a piece of 
beef, cut small; herbs, an onion, pepper, mace, cloves, a 
pint of water, and bake the head a fine brown. Boil 
the brains with sage, separately. When the head is 
done enough take it out, and set by the fire to keep 
warm, then stir all in the dish together, and boil in a 
stewpan ; strain it off", put it in the saucepan again with 
a piece of butter rolled in flour, the brains and sage 
chopped fine, a spoonful of catsup, and two spoonfuls of 
whie. Beat well together, and serve in the dish with 
the head. Leave the tongue in the head. 

Dessert. 

Balced Custard. 

Wliipt Cream. — A qt. cream, the whites of 4 eggs, \ 
pt. white-wine, \ lb. powdered sugar, 12 drops essence 
of lemon. Beat to a froth, and put in glasses with a 
little jelly in the bottom. 

Peaches and melons. 



80 what sha.ll we eat? 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold tongue, minced beef on toast, peaches and 
cream, cucumbers, corn pone, boiled rice, dry toast, tea 
lemonade. 



TUESDAY. 



Breakfast. — Corned beef hash, cold roast chicken, 
boiled eggs, steam toast, raised biscuit, lettuce, huckle- 
berries, rolls, coffee and tea. 

Dinner. 

Giblet Soup. 

Baled Pike. — Stuff the pike with grated bread, 2 
hard boiled eggs chopped fine, a little nutmeg, lemon 
peel, and the roe or liver chopped ; then lay it in the 
dish, with the tail in the mouth ; put pieces of butter 
all over it, and sprinkle with flour. Garnish with toast 
and lemon, and serve with melted butter. 

Boiled Corned Beef^ with corn, squash, beans, and 
baked potatoes. 

Bucky with Peas. — Put the duck in a deep stewpan, 
with a piece of butter, (singe it first,) flour it, and turn 
it two or three times, then pour out all the fat. Put to 
the duck a pint of good gravy, do. peas, 2 lettuces cut 
small, sweet herbs, pepper and salt ; cover close and stew 
half an hour. When well done thicken with a little 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 81 

butler ind flour, shake all together three or four 
minutes, and serve in a dish, the duck with the sauce 
poured over it, ^ 

Dessert. 

Cream Pudding. — Boil 1 qt. of cream with a blade 
of mace, and half a nutmeg, grated ; let it cool ; beat 
the yolkc of 8 eggs, and whites of 3, and mix them with 
a spoonful of flour, \ lb. blanched almonds, beaten with 
rose-water, and by degrees mix in the cream. Tie in a 
thick cloth well floured, boil half an hour, and when 
done throw fine sugar and melted butter over it. 

Peaches and Cream. 

Melons, plums, and bonbons. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Broiled smoked salmon, lobster salad, corn pone, 
Graham biscuit, blackberries, peaches and cream, maca- 
roons, and small sponge cakes, dry toast, tea and choco- 
late. 



WEDNESDAY. 

Brealcfast. — Broiled spring chicken, brown bread 
cream toast, cold ham, potted fish, rolls, scrambled eggs, 
blackberries, cucumbers, tea and coffee. 

4* 



82 what shall we eat? 

Dinner. 

Codling Soup. — Tuke the meat from a young cod, pound 

It in a mortar, with some shred parsley, and bread 

crumbs soaked in milk ; make the mixture up into balls 

tfith ^n ecrar, seasoned well. Stew down 2 or 3 codlino-s 

Co' o 

or haddocks into broth, strain it, j ulp the meat through 
a sieve, boil it with parsley roots, thicken, and serve 
with the forcemeat balls. 

Broiled Bluejish. 

Roast Beef, with corn, egg plant, squash, and rice. 

Pigeon Fricassea. — Gut 8 pigeons into small pieces, 
aiid put in a stewpan with 1 pt. water and same of 
claret. Season with salt, pepper, mace, an onion, 
a bunch of herbs, a piece of butter rolled in flour ; cover 
close, and let them stew till there is just enough for 
sauce ; then take out the onion and herbs, beat up the 
yolks of 3 eggs, push the meat to one side, and stir 
them into the gravy. Keep stirring till sauce is thick, 
then put the meat in a dish, and pour over it. 
Dessert. 

Charlotte Russe. 

Ice Cream. — Newport receipt. — -I qt. new milk, with 
cream to suit, 2 tablespoonfuls cornstarch, yolk of 1 egg, 
Bugar, and flavoring to taste. Wet the starch in a little 
of the milk, mix with the egg, and stir into the milk 
boiling hot. When cool, it is ready for the freezer. 
Peaches, plums, and hot-house grapes. 



what shall we eat? 83 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold veal, sardines, Boston crackers, with toujato cat 
sup, cream toast, rice cakes, blackberries and huckleber- 
ries, pound-cake, rolls, gems. Tea. 



THURSDAY. 
Breakfast. — Cold roast beef, sweetbreads fried, raw 
tomatoes, muffins, potted tongue, rolls and bread, berries, 
cucumbers. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Green Corn Soup. 

Baked Cod^s Head. — Lay the head in a buttered pan, 
with a bundle of herbs, an onion stuck with cloven, 3 or 4 
blades of mace, I- spoonful black pepper, a small piece 
lemon-peel, a bruised nutmeg, a small bit of horseradish, 
and a quart of water. Flour the head, and stick butter 
and bread crumbs over it. Bake it well, and lay it in the 
dish it is to be served in, covered close, and placed over 
hot water. Boil the liquor 3 or 4 minutes, strain it, and 
add a gill of wine, 2 spoonfuls of catsup, 1 of mushrooms 
pickled, and ^ lb. butter rolled in flour. Stir till it ia 
thick, and pour into the dish. Stick pieces of fried 
bread round the dish, and in the head. 

Boiled Zamb, with baked tomatoes, corn, lima beans, 
and potatoes. 



84 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Brown Fricassee. — Cut cliickens in small pieces, and 
rub with yolks of eggs ; thon roll them Id grated bread 
and nutmeg, and fry a fine brown with butter. Pour 
off the butter, and add ^ pt. brown gravy, 1 glass white 
wine, a few mushrooms, salt and pepper, and a littk 
butter rolled in flour. When thick, dish it for the table. 

Dessert. 

Blachlerry Pudding. — A good batter mixed with the 
fruit, boiled 1 hour, and served with wine sauce. 

Kisses. — Beat the whites of 4 eggs till stiff, then stir 
in gradually (one spoonful at a time) 1 lb powdered 
sugar, and add 12 drops essence of lemon. Lay a wet 
sheet of paper on a square pan, and drop at equal dis- 
tances a teaspoonful of stiff currant jelly with a little 
sugar and Qgg under each one. Then pile the froth so 
as to cover each lump of jelly, as round as possible. Set 
in a cool oven, and when colored they are done. Place 
the two bottoms together, lay them lightly on a sieve, 
and dry in a cool oven till they stick together. 

Apples, peaches, and melons. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold miroton of veal, dried beef stewed in cream, 
waffles, crackers and cheese, bread and toast, berries and 
radishes, Indian pound cake. Tea and chocolate. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 8A 

FRIDAY. 

Breakfast. — Codfish fried, chipped potatoes, cold 
tongue, minced lamb, omelet, corn bread, brown bread, 
berries, rolls. Tea and cofi"ee. 

Dinner. 

Lohster Soup. — Make a stock of small fish, take the 
meat from 1 or 2 lobsters, and cut in small pieces ; lay 
it aside, and break the shell, boiling it gently several 
hours with the stock. Make the coral into force- 
meat balls, with a small piece of stock fish, bread crumbs, 
parsley, and egg. When the stock is done, strain, and 
thifiken with butter and flour. Warui the lobster in it, 
and serve with the balls. It may be seasoned delicately 
with any sauce. 

Boiled Soles, melted butter. 

Boast Veal, with peas, beans, and potatoes k la maitre 
d'hotel. 

JVeafs Tongue Fricassee. — Boil the tongues till ten- 
der, peel, and cut in thin slices ; fry them in fresh butter ; 
then pour it out, add enough gravy for sauce, herbs, an 
onion, pepfer, salt, mace, and a glass of white- wine ; 
simmer all ^ an hour ; take out the tongue, and strain the 
gravy ; then put both into the pan again with yolks of 2 
eggs beaten, a piece of butter size of a walnut, rolled in 
flour, and a little nutmeg. Shake together 5 minutes, 
and serve. 



8t5 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

Dessert. 
Huckleherry Fie. 

Apple Souffle. — Scald and sweeten the fruit, beat 
through a sieve, and put in a dish. Pour a rich custard 
2 inches deep over it ; when cold, whip the whites of the 
eggs to a froth, and laj in rough pieces on the custard ; 
Bift fine sugar over it, and put in a slack oven for a 
short time. 

Peaches and melons. 

Tea, or Lunch, 
Ham sandwiches, salad, tongue, potted game, corn 
muffins, biscuit, jelly tarts, berries, cup cake. Tea. 



SATURDAY. 

Breahfast. — Beefsteak, cold snipe, raw tomatoes, drop- 
ped eggs on toast, milk toast, berries, cucumbers, tea 
and coffee, rolls. 

Dinner. 

Oxckeek Bowp. — Take the meat from half an ox-head, 
and put in a pan with 3 sliced, fried onions, herbs, 
allspice, pepper, and salt, a large spoonful each. Lay 
the bones close on the meat, and put 1 qt. water to 
every pound cut meat. Cover the pan with coarse 
brown paper, tied closely, and let it stand in the oven 
4 hours. When done, take out the bones, and pour the 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 87 

soup and meat into a pan. When it is to be used, 
take off the fat, warm the soup, and cut the meal 
into pieces not larger than a mouthful. Make the 
brains into forcemeat balls, and season highly with 
walnut catsup and cayenne. 

Stewed Terrapin. — Boil them 10 minutes, and then 
take them out, remove the outer shells, and put back 
again. Then boil till the claws are tender. Take them out 
of the inner shell, taking care not to break the gall, 
which must be separated from the liver and thrown 
away ; also the spongy part. Cut them in small pieces, 
put in a stewpan with salt, pepper, and some butter. 
After they have stewed a few minutes, put in a wine- 
glass of water to each terrapin. When they have 
stewed 10 minutes add butter rolled in flour, and 1 
glass white-wine to each one. Stew 5 minutes more, 
and take off. Add beaten yolks of eggs (1 yolk to 2 
terrapins) well stirred in, cover tightly, let it stand 5 
minutes, and serve in a deep dish. 

Lamb Chopa^ breaded ; with succotash (corn and beans), 
squash, and potatoes. 

LarnVs Read^ stewed. — Wash, and lay in water 1 hour ; 
take out the brains, and with a sharp penknife take out 
the tongue and bones, so as to leave the meat whole ; chop 
together 2 lbs. veal, 2 lbs. beef-suet, thyme, lemon peel ; 
nutmeg grated, 2 rolls grated and yolks of 4 eggs. Tie th« 



88 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

head with thread, and stew 2 hours in 2 qts. gravy. 
Make the mixture into balls, and fry in dripping ; beat 
the brains with parsley, and fry in little cakes ; strain 
the grav'/, and season with catsup, and serve the head 
with the fried balls and brains around it. 

Dessert. 

Soft Boiled Custard^ frozen ; with sliced peaches^ ciirds^ 
and whey. — Wash very clean in cold water a piece of rennet 
2 inches square ; wipe it dry, and pour on it lukewarm 
water enough to cover it. Let it stand all night, then 
take it out, and stir the water into a quart of warm milk. 
Set the milk in a warm place till it becomes a firm curd 
— then on the ice. Eat with wine, sugar, and nutmeg. 

Melons, plums, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Ham cake, cold beef, sardines, pate de foie gras, 
wine jelly, sponge cake, berries, steamed toast, rolls, 
Indian bannock. Tea. 



SUNDAY. 



Breakfast. — Broiled salmon, cold corned beef, mutton 
chops, raw tomatoes, gems, rolls, broad, berries, Indian 
griddle-cakes. 



what shall we eat? 89 

Dinner. 

Tomato Soup. — Chicken or veal bri)tb thickened, with 
t(;mato pulp in it. 

Ferch. 

Broiled Quail, with egg-plant, squash, corn, and to 
matoes. 

Ragout of Veal. — Cut a neck of veal into steaks, flat- 
ten with a rolliug-piB, season with salt, pepper, and 
spice, lard them with bacon, lemon-peel, thyme, and dip 
them in yolks of eggs. Put in a pan with ^ pt. strong 
gravy, and stew leisurely; season high, and add mush- 
rooms and pickles, also add a glass of wine. 

Dessert. 

BlacTcherry Pie. 

Lemon Pudding.— Qxdiie the rind of a fresh lemon, and 
squeeze in the juice. Stir together \ lb. powdered sugar, 
and \ lb. butter to a cream ; beat 3 eggs well and add ; 
mix all together with a tablespoonful of wine and brandy, 
and a teaspoonful of rose-water ; beat all very hard. 
Make a paste of 5 oz. flour, and \ lb. butter ; cover a 
buttered soup-plate, put in the pudding, and bake a 
light brown. 

Peaches and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Boiled ham, cold birds, crackers, raw tomatoes, waf 



00 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

fit's, dry toast, biscuit, peaches and cream, berries, Ger 
man cake — from a Hungarian Countess (1 lb. sugar, 1 
lb. beaten almonds, 1 lb. citron beaten, 1 oz. mace, cin- 
namon and cloves mixed. Make as stiff as pie-crusty 
roll out an inch thick, cut in shapes, and glaze with 
sugar and water. It will keep a year.) Tea and choo 
elate. 



MONDAY. 

Brealfa&t. — Cold chicken pie, broiled ham, scrambled 
eggs, fried potatoes, rolls, cream toast, berries and 
peaches, tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Souf h la Creel — Grate the red part of 12 carrots, 
slice 4 onions, a turnip, 2 lettuces, a piece of lean ham, 
a few sprigs of parsley and thyme, and a few allspice; 
put them all in a stewpan with a piece of butter ; let it 
simmer \ an hour, then fill up with stock, and allow it 
to boil gently 2 hours ; put in the crumb of 2 rolls, and 
rub the whole through a tamis. Let it boil, skim it, add 
salt to taste, and a small lump of sugar. Put a little 
boiled rice in the tureen. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 91 

Cutlets of Sole. — Cut the sole in pieces crosswise, dry 
flour, egg, and crumb them; fry crisp, and dish with 
parsley in the centre. 

Green Goose Roasted, with roast potatoes, squash, corn 
and touiatoes. 

Sleeved Beef. — Stew the brisket in water enough to 
cover it ; when tender take out the bones, and skim the 
fat ; strain the gravy, and add a glass of wine and a 
small muslin bag of spice ; have ready boiled vegeta- 
bles, with mushrooms, cut them in shapes, and lay around 
and upon the beef. Pour the gravy over it. 

Dessert. 

Bread-and-hutter Pudding — Make a custard of 1 Qggy 
and i pt. milk, by boiling the milk with lemon peel, and 
sugar, putting it on the fire with the egg to thicken ; 
butter slices of bread or roll, and soak them an hour or 
two in the custard, then lay them in a dish with cur 
rants, and powdered sugar between each layer. Then 
pour over it another ^ pt. milk beaten with 2 eggs, and 
bake. 

Creme au caramel. 

Peaches and pears. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold mutton, tongue, Turk's cap, muflfins, potted fish- 
cracker milk toast, jelly cake, berries, peaches, dry toast 
tea. 



W WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 



TUESDAY. 



Breakfast. — Beef hash, pickled tripe, stewed pota 
toes, corn bannock, rolls, bread, raw tomatoes, berries^ 
and fruit. 

Dinner. 

Potato Soup. 



Roast Lamb., with beans, tomatoes, potatoes, and corn 
fritters. Grate corn into a batter, and fry on a griddle. 
Beefs Heart Roasted. 

Dessert. 

Baked Batter Budding. — Make a batter with 6 oz. 
flour, 1 gill milk and 4 eggs ; make it the consistency 
of cream with more milk, and bake in cups. Cold sauce. 

Almond Croquantes. — Blanch and dry 1 lb. almonds, 
pound in a mortar with 1 lb. powdered sugar, rub 
through a wire sieve, then rub in | lb. butter, grated rind 
^ a lemon, and yolks 3 eggs. Make into a paste, cut 
in shapes, and bake in a quick oven. When done dip 
them in Bugar boiled to a syrup. 

Pears, plums, and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold goose, dried beef chipped, waffles, raw tom» 
toes, steam toast, berries, breadcake. Tea. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 9S 

WEDNESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Broiled kidneys, cold lamb, stewed to- 
matoes, boiled eggs, Graham biscuit, rolls, milk toast, 
baked potatoes. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Beef Soup. 

Roast Lobster. — Remove the shells from boiled lob- 
sters, lay them before the fire, and baste them with but- 
ter till they have a fine froth. Dish them with plain 
melted butter. 

Bouilli, with corn, beans, egg-plant, and potatoes. 
Take from 4 to 6 lbs. of rump of beef, and allow 1 pt. 
cold water to every pound of meat ; let it simmer gently 
four or five hours, with a bunch of herbs, and an onion 
stuck with cloves ; then strain off the soup, leaving 
enough for sauce, to be served with the meat. Season 
with catsup, thicken, and add vegetables cut in shapes. 

Boned Lamb. — Bone the shoulder, stuff it with fine 
force-meat, and skewer it in a nice shape. Put it in a 
closely covered stewpan with 2 oz. butter, and a teacup 
of water, until the gravy is drawn; cut the brisket in 
pieces, and stew them in gravy thickened with milk and 
egg ; thicken the gravy of the shoulder with any vege- 
tables in season. Place the shoulder in a dish with its 
gravy, and lay the brisket with white sauce around it 



94 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Dessert. 

Blackberry Pie. 

Peach Pudding. — Scald till soft 12 pea dies; put 
grated bread into a pint of boiling milk, and when half 
cold add 4 oz sugar, the yolks of 4 eggs beaten, and 1 
glass of white wine. Mix with the pulp of the fruit, and 
bake in a paste. 

Pears and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Sardines, broiled ham, cold chicken, crackers and 
cheese, corn bread, buttered toast, berries, Harrison cake. 
Tea. 



THURSDAY. 
Breahfast. — Liver hash, stewed mushrooms, cold ha ti, 
corn pone, raw tomatoes, cucumbers, fruit, fried pota- 
toes, griddle- cakes, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 
Green Corn So2(p. 
Blarlcfish. 

Roast Chiclcens^ with beans, baked tomatoes, and po- 
tatoes. 

Co'd Tongue. 

Dessert. 
HucUeherry Pudding. — Put ^ lb. flour into a pan with 
a little salt, and add gently ^ pt. milk. Beat tlie wliitea 



WHAT SHALL AVE EAT? 95 

of 4 eggs to a solid frotli, and add just as the batter is 
to be used. ]Make it of a proper consistency with milk, 
and stir in the fruit. It may be baked or boiled. 

Custard Cream of Chocolate. 

Peaches, plutiis, and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold boned lamb, lobster salad, muffins, toast, ginger- 
bread, berries and peaches, sponge cake, crackers and 
cheese. Tea and chocolate. 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast. — Broiled whitefish, cold tongue, dropped 
eggs, chipped potatoes, sliced onions and cucumbers, 
milk toast, rolls, berries. 

Dinner. 

l^cl Soup. — Skin 3 lbs. small eels ; bone 1 or 2, cut in 
little pieces, and fry lightly with a bit of butter, and 
parsley. Put to the remainder 3 qts. water, a crust of 
bread, 3 blades mace, an onion, some whole pepper, and 
a bunch of herbs. Cover, and stew till the fish breaks 
from the bones ; then strain it ofiF, pound to a paste, and 
pass through a sieve. Cut some toasted bread into 
dice, pour the soup on it, add the scallops of eel, and 



96 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

serve : ^ pt. cream or milk with a teaspooiiful of floai 
rubbed smooth in it, is a great improvement. 

MaJced Codjtsh. 

Leg of Mutton^ stuffed ; with corn, squash, and pota- 
toes. 

Stewed Larks. 



Rolypoly Pudding — Make a rich paste of butter and 
flour, as light as possible. Roll it thin, 8 or 10 inches 
wide, and as long as you please ; then spread a thick 
layer of fruit or jam upon it, leaving an inch of the 
edges bare. Then roll it round, lapping it over to se- 
cure the fruit. Wrap in a floured cloth, and boil 2 or 3 
hours. 

Lmperial Cream. 

Melons and pears. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold pigeon pie, pickled herring, baked potatoes, 
rusk, steam toast, berries and fruit, crackers and cheese, 
tarts. Tea and chocolate. 



SATURDAY. 



Breakfast. — Codfish balls, stewed eels, potted game, 
potatoes ^ la maitre d'hdtel, rolls, brown bread, fruit 
Tea and coffee. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 0'} 

DlNNEB. 

Soupe d la Julienne. 

Haddock, hoiled. 

Roast Veal, with corn, limas beans, squash, and po- 
tatoes. 

Pilau of Rallit. — Cut up the rabbit ; pound an onion 
in mortar, extract the juice, and mix it with a saltspoon 
of ground ginger, a teaspoonfal of salt, and the juice of a 
lemon. Rub this into the meat; cut up 2 onions in 
slices, and fry them in \ lb. butter ; when brown take 
them out, put in the rabbit, and let them stew together. 
Have ^ lb. rice half boiled in broth ; put the meat and 
all into a jar, with ^ pint milk, whole pepper, \ doz. 
cloves, and a little salt. Secure the mouth, and bake 
until done, adding a little broth to moisten if necessary. 

Dessert. 

HucTcUhefry Pudding. 

Calf s foot Jelly. — Boil a cow-heel in 2 qts. of water 
for 7 or 8 hours : tak,> every particle of fat and sediment 
from the jelly ; when oold put to it a pint of wine, the 
juice of 3 lemons, and rind of 2 par. d thin, 6 oz. sugar, 
the whites and shells of 3 eggs well beaten, and h oz. 
insinglass. Boil 20 minutes, and after adding a teacup of 
cold water, boil 5 m'nutes more ; then cover close, and 
5 



<;*1 ""^TT^T SHALL WE EAT' 

let it stand i an hour to cool; pour through a jelly-bag 
till clear, and put in a mould on the ice. 
Melons, pears, and plums. 

Tea, or Lungii. 

Cold beef, with tomato catsup, salad, potted fish, 
tongue corn muffins, dry toast, berries and fruit, cucum- 
bers and radishes, fruit cake. Tea. 



SUNDAY. 
Brcalfast. — Lamb chops, potato cakjF, stewed toma- 
toes, pickled tongue, rolls, gems, berries and fruit. Tea 
and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Soup Maigre. — Pare and slice 5 or 6 cucumbers, 
and add to them the inside of as tiany lettuces, a sprig 
of mint, 2 onions, H pts. peas, and a little parsley. Put 
them into a saucepan with salt and pepper, and ^ lb. 
butter, to stew gently in their own liquor ^ an hour, then 
add 2 qts. boiling water, and stew them 2 hours ; rub a 
little flour into a teacup of water, boil 15 or 20 minutes 
with the rest, and serve it. 

Stewed Scallops. — Boil in salt and water (after 
straining off the liquor), then stew in the liquor, adding 
butter rolled in flour, cloves, and mace. 

Roast Ham, with corn, beans, and tomatoes. Soak 



WHAT SHALL WE EA7 " f"& 

the ham ia lukewarm water for a day or two, changing 
the water often, lioast it slowly before the fire, basting 
with hot water, and when done dredge it all over with 
fine bread-crumbs, and brown. 

Veal Cutlets, with Bice. — Pound a cupful of rice boiled 
in milk, with pepper and salt, in a mortar ; cold veal in 
the same way ; mix together with yolk of egg, from into 
cutlets, brush with yolk of egg, and fry them. Cover 
them with mushrooms pickled, or any piquant sauce. 

Dessert. 

Soft boiled Custard. 

Transparent Ptidding. — Beat 8 eggs, put them into a 
stewpan with ^ lb. powdered sugar, same of butter, and 
some grated nutmeg. Keep stirring on the fire till it 
thickens. Put a puif paste round the edge of the dish, 
pour in the pudding cool, and bake in a moderate 
oven. Add candied orange and citron if you like. 

Peache?, melons, and grapes. 

Tea, ok Lunch. 
Broiled smoked salmon, cold ham, dried beef, boil- 
ed rice, corn bread, toast, berries and fruit, tomatoes 
dressed, German cake. 



190 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

OCTOBER. 

MONDAY. 

Breakfast. — Cold chicken, minced veal on toast, fried 
ficallops, omelet, baked potatoes, corn pone, milk toast, 
berries. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Macaroni Soup. 

Halibut. 

Roast Woodcock^ with squash, egg-plant, tomatoes, 

and potatoes. 

Chicken Fie. 

Dessert. 

Quince Pudding. 

Burnt Cream. 

Grapes, pears, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Ham cake, potted game, sardines, waffles, gems, 
biscuit, stewed pears, Spanish buns, breadcake. Tea 
and chocolate. 



TUESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Broiled liver, cold mutton, tomatoes, tried 
potatoes, cold woodcock, cracker milk toast, rolls. Tea 
and coffee. 



WHAT SHALL WE BAT? lOl 

Dinner. 

Oyster Soup. 

Boiled Codfish. 

Roast Beef^ with potatoes, cauliflower, and squash. 

Miroton of Veal. 

Dessert. 

Apple Charlotte. — Pare and slice apples ; cut slices of 
bread and butter ; place the latter all around the inside of 
a buttered pie-dish; then put in a layer of apples 
sprinkled with chopped lemon peel, and considerable 
brown sugar ; then put in a layer of the bread, and 
one of apples, repeating till the dish is full. Squeeze 
over all the juice of lemons, so that it will be well 
flavored. Cover up the dish with crusts, bake 1^ hours, 
remove the crust, and turn out. 

Vanilla Cream. 

Pears, grapes, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold chicken pie, fried oysters, chopped vegetables 
on toast, peaches and cream, Graham bread, rolls. Tea 
and chocolate 

WEDNESDAY. 
Breakfast. — Minced beef, cold ham, dropped eggs, 
chipped potatoes, Indian griddle-cakes, rolls. Tea and 
coff'ee. 



ICl WBAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Dinner. 

Fea Soup. 
Jiaked Fike. 

Boiled Leg oj Midton^ caper sauce, with stewed po- 
tatoes, cabbage, beans, and spinach. 
Sweetbreads^ dewed. 

Dessert. 
Brandy Pudding. 
Beach Pie. 
Grapes, apples, and almonds. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Clam fritters, potted game, veal sandwiches, apple 
sauce, muffins, toast, corn bannock, sponge cake. Tea. 



THURSDAY. 

Breakfast. — Pickle shad roes, broiled oysters, mutton 
chops, corn bread, milk toast, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Tomato Soup. 
Smelts. 

Boast Partridges with squash, egg-plant, and ho- 
miny. 

Stewed Beef. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? lol 

Dessert 

Arrowroot Pudding. 

Baked Custard. 

Candied fruits, bonbons, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Pickled oysters, broiled ham, flour griddle-cakes, with 
sugar and nutmeg, rice balls, stewed plums, jelly cakes 
tea, toast, crackers and cheese. 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast. — Broiled halibut, fried scallops, cold boiifcd 
chickens, poached eggs, milk toast of brown broad, muf- 
fins, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Vermicelli Soup. 
Bluejisk. 

Boast Fork, with apple-sauce, tomatoes, squash, an*' 
potatoes. 

Scalloped Oi/sters. 

Dessert. 

Apple Pie. 

Blancmange. 

Grapes, pears, and figs. 



f < WIT AT SHALL WE EAT 1 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold birds, tongue, ham toast, cheese, cream cakes 
raised biscuit, steam toast, baked sweet apples, fruit cake 



SATURDAY. 

Breakfast. — Corned beef hash, cold tongue, potted 
fifeh, brown bread, corn pone, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Clam Soup. 
Soles 

Boiled Chickens, oyster sauce, with potatoes, egg 
plant, baked potatoes, and squash. 
Boiled Tongue. 

Dessert. 

Damson Pudding. — Take a few spoonfuls from a qt. of 
miU:, and mix into it by degrees 4 spoonfuls flour, 2 of 
ginger, and a little salt ; then add the rest of the milk, 
and 1 lb. of damsons. Tie it in a wet, floured cloth, and 
boil 1^ hour; pour over it melted butter and sugar. 
Chocolate Cream. 
Grapes, pears, and nuts. 



what shall wk bat? 106 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Broiled salt mackerel, cold roast pork, raw oyster^ 
baked pears, muffiDs, doughnuts, fried bread, rolk, cup- 
cake. Tea. 



SUNDAY. 
BreaJcfast. — Cold roast duck, fried potatoes, hominy, 
omelet with parsley, minced fresh fish, brown bread 
milk toast, corn bannock, rolls. Tea and cocoa. 

Dinner. 

Veal Broth. 

Baked Whitejish. 

Roast Veal, with cauliflower, spinach, and potatoes 

Broiled Snipe. 

Dessert. 
Rice Pudding. 
Lemon Cream. 
Oranges, apples, and grapes. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Chicken patties, potted tongue, sardines, dry toast, 
crackers and cheese, preserved quinces, Graham biscuit, 
rolls, macaroons and cocoanut cakes. Tea. 

5* 



106 W HAT SHALL WE EAT ? 



MONDAY. 

Breakfast. — Pork steak, cold quail, pickled scallops, 
baked potatoes, milk tost of brown bread, rolls. Tea 
and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Harrico Soup, — TiCs.e mutton cutlets, trim, and fry 
to light brown ; then stew in 3 qts. of brown gravy soup 
till tender. Take 2 carrots, 2 onions, celery cut fine, a 
glass of port wine, and one of mushroom catsup, and add 
to the soup, after straining. Cook till all is tender, and 
thicken with a little butter and flour. 

Blackfishy hoiled. 

Roast BeeJ\ with lima beans, squash, and potatoes. 

Spiced Veal. — Two and a half lbs. of veal well chopped, 
4 crackers pounded fine, 2 eggs, 2 slices of pork chopped 
fine, a piece of butter size of an egg, |- teaspoonful pep- 
per, and same of salt. Put into a shape, cover with 
bread crumbs, and bake 2 hours. 

Dessert, 
Carrot Pie. — Boil and strain 6 carrots to a pulp, add 
3 pts. milk, 6 eggs, 2 tablespoonfuls butter melted, juice 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 107 

of ^ a lemon, and grated rind of a whole one. Sweeten 
and bake in a deep dish. 

Sponge Pudding. — Butter a mould thickly, and fill il 
three parts full of small sponge cakes soaked in wine 
then fill up the mould with a rich cold custard. Pui 
a buttered paper over the mould, and bake it. Serve 
with wine sauce. 

Plums, pears, and chestnuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Rice Calces. (Soak i lb. rice over night, boil soft, 
drain dry, mix \ lb. butter with it, and set away to cool. 
Then stir it into a qt. of milk, stir in ^ pt. flour, and add 
6 eggs with salt. Fry thin on a griddle). Cold tongue. 
Potted Fish. (Boil lobsters, shrimps, or any shell-fish, pick 
out the meat, and put in a stew-pan with a little butter, 
chopped mushrooms, and a little salt. Simmer gently, 
then add the yolks of 2 eggs beaten with a cup-fall ol 
milk or cream, and a little chopped parsley. Let all 
stew till of the consistency of paste, then put into a pot, 
and press down. When cold cover with melted butter, 
and tie on an oil-skin cover). French rolls, Grahaui 
bread, stewed quinces. Tea and coffee. 
Cup-cake, with hickory nuts. 



108 WHAT SnALL WE EAT? 

TUESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Cold turkey, sweetbreads, stewed with 
mushrooms, buckwheat cakes, wheaten grits with cream, 
rolls and bread. Coffee. 

Dinner. 

White Soup. — Take broth made of veal, or white 
poultry, cut the meat off, and put the bone back, adding 
2 or 3 shank-bones of mutton, and \ lb. fine lean bacon, 
with a bunch of sweet herbs, a piece of fresh lemon-peel, 
2 or 3 onions, 3 blades of mace, and a dessertspoonful of 
white pepper. Boil all till the meat falls quite to pieces, 
and strain. 

Trout. 

Roast Prairie Chickens^ with sweet potatoes, rice, and 
beets, spiced currants. 

Hoch. — One lb. rump steak, do. pork steak, ^ loaf 
of bread. Chop together like sausage-meat, add 2 eggs, 
and season with salt, pepper, and sage. Bake like bread, 
and cut in slices. 

Dessert. 

Qualdng Pudding. — Scald 1 qt. of cream (or milk), and 
when almost cold add 4 eggs well beaten, li spoonfuls 
of flour, nutmeg, and sugar. Tie it close in a buttered 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 109 

cloth, boil one hour, turn it out with care, and servo 
with wine sauce. 

Cranberry Tarts. 

Pears and hickory nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold lamb with tomato catsup. Kidney Fritters. (4 eggs 
well beaten, with a teacup of cream or milk, pepper and 
salt, pounded mace, chopped parsley, and mushrooms, or 
mushroom catsup. Chop the kidneys fine, and mix 
together; pour into a buttered pan, and stir over the 
fire.) Muffins, Graham crackers, bread, quince jelly, ma- 
caroons. Tea. 



WEDNESDAY. 

Breahfast. — Beef hash, salt mackerel broiled, cold 

duck, buckwheat cakes, rolls, boiled hominy. Tea and 

coflfee. 

Dinner. 

A Cheap Soup. — Two lbs. lean beef, 6 potatoes, 6 
onions parboiled, a carrot, turnip, head of celery, ^ pt. 
split peas, 4 qts. water, some whole pepper, and a red 
herring. Boil well, and rub through a coarse sieve. 
Serve with fried bread. 

Boiled Perch. — Boil quickly with salt, then simmer 
slowly 10 minutes ; meltea Dutter and parsley sauce. 



110 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Boiled Mutton, butter sauce, with potatoes, onions 
turnips, and carrots. 

A French Pie. — Lay a puff paste on the edge of a dish, 
put veal in slices with forcemeat balls, and sweetbreada 
cut fine. Add mushrooms, seasoning, cover with gravy, 
a crust, and bake 1 hour. 

Dessert. 

Hasty Padding. — One qt. milk, while boiling shake 
in 2 tablespoonfuls of flour, and stir till it thickens. 
Put in a deep dish, stir in an oz, of butter, do. sugar, 
and add grated nutmeg. Sugar sauce. 

Floating Island. 

Pears, apples, and dates. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold roast veal, birds stewed and spiced, cold. Po- 
tato Fritters. (Boil 2 large potatoes, scraped fine, 4 eggs, 
1 large spoon of cream, do. wine, a squeeze of lemon, 
and a little nutmeg. Beat the batter ^ an hour, and fry 
in boiling lard.) Corn pone, crackers, and cheese, stewed 
pears, dry toast, bread, tea. Seed Cake. (1^ lbs. flour, 1 
lb. sugar, 8 eggs, 1 oz. seeds, 2 spoonfuls yeast, and 
same of milk.) 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? Ill 

THURSDAY. 
Breakfast. — Cold rabbit, minced mutton, poached 
eggs, corn mufl&ns, rice cake, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Spanish Soiip. — Three lbs. beef, 1 lb. ham, cover well 
with water, boil and skim. Add a teaspoonful pepper, 
simmer 2 hours; cook separately a cup of rice, onions cut 
small, and cabbage. Eat them separate from the soup 
if desired. 

Roast Oysters. 

Roast Veal, with corn, tomatoes, and baked mashed 
potatoes. 

Beef Steak Broiled. 

Dessert. 
Reach Rie. 

Matrimony. — Make ice cream, after the Newport re- 
ceipt, (1 qt. milk, 1 pt. cream, 2 tablespoons corn starch, 
and the yolk of one egg, sweeten and flavor to taste ; 
mix the corn starch in part of the milk, and add the 
egg, then add to the milk, boiling hot. When cool it is 
ready for the freezer, — and mix with fresh, or canned 
peaches ; freeze all together.) 
Grapes, chestnuts, and pears. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold roast beef, pickled tripe, crackers with anchovy, 
paste spread on them ; raspberry jam, corn bread, dry 



112 WHAT SHALL WE EAT T 

toast. Sponge Cake. (Break 10 eggs into a deep pan, with 
1 lb. sifted sugar, set the pan into warm water, and beat 
\ of an hour, till the batter is thick and warm. Then 
take out of the water, and whisk till cold. Stir in lightlj 
1 lb. flour, and flavor with essence of lemon.) Tea and 
chocolate. 



FRIDAY. 
Breakfast. — Turkey hash on toast, cold ham, sardines, 
scallops fried, cream toast, rolls. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Game Soup. — Take 2 old birds, or pieces left from 
the table, cut fine, with 2 slices of ham, 3 lbs. of beef, a 
piece of celery, and 2 large onions. Put on the fire with 
6 pts. of boiling water, and stew gently for 2 hours. 
Then strain, and put back into the pot with some stewed 
celery, and fried bread, season well, skim, and serve hot. 

Lohster. 

Roast Lamh, with cauliflower, oyster plant, and po* 
tatoes. 

Chicken Pie. — Half boil a large fowl, and cut in 
pieces ; put the broth rich into a deep dish with a hand- 
ful of parsley scalded in milk, and season well. Add 
the fowl, and bake with a raised crust. When done, lift 
the crust, and add ^ pt. cream, scalded, with a little but 
ter and flour in it ; mix well with the gravy. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 113» 

Dessert. 
Apple Pie 

Boiled Ricey in cups, with cream and sugar. 
A-pples, pears, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Dutch herring, raw oysters, cold hock, milk toast 
G-raham bread, stewed apples. Spanish Fritters. (Cut 
French rolls into pieces length of a finger, mix together 
one egg, cream, sugar, and cinnamon, and soak them in 
it. When well soaked, fry a light brown, and serve with 
wine and sngar sauce.) Chocolate, cheese. 



SATURDAY. 
Breakfast. — Beefsteak with mushrooms, cold potted 
game, fried Indian pudding, sausage, toast, rolls. Tea and 
cofi'ee. 

Dinner. 

Venison Sotip. — 4 lbs. venison cut in small pieces, 
and stewed gently in brown gravy soup. Strain, and 
serve with French beans cut in diamonds, adding 2 glass- 
es of port wine ; separate from the soup if desired. 

Fried Perch. 

Roast TurJcey^ cranberry sauce, with potatoes, beets, 
and squash. 



114 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Irish Stew. — 5 thick mutton chops, 2 lbs. potatoes 
peeled and cut in halyest; 6 onions sliced, and seasoning 
Put a layer of potatoes at the bottom of the pan, then 
a couple of chops, and some onions ; then another similar 
Add 3 gills of gravy, and 2 teasponfuls mushroom catsup. 
Cover close, and stew 1^ hours. A small slice of ham 
Is an addition. 

Dessert. 

BaJied Apple Dumplings. 

Blancmange. 

Fruit .*md nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold tongue, pickled fish, French bread, boiled rice 
stewed prunes. Ginger Pound-cahe. (I lb. butter, do. 
sugar, do. flour, 8 eggs, and 2 tablespoons yellow ginger.) 
Tea and coffee. 



SUNDAY. 
Breahfast. — (^old roast turkey, ham cake, anchovy, 
toast, fried samp, buckwheat cakes, brown bread, gems. 
Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 
Tomato Soup. — Plain beef soup, with 2 cups of fresh 
or canned tomatoes, well seasoned. 
Boiled Cod^ oyster sauce. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 116 

Roast Duchs^ with currant jelly, sweet potatoes, cau- 
liflower, spinach, and stewed potatoes. 
Boiled Ham. 

Dessert. 
Mince Pie, 
Delicate Dish. 
Grapes, applea, and almonds. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Broiled salmon, cold corned beef, Boston crackers, with 
tomato catsup, waffles, dry toast, preserved grapes, ae* 
jorted cakes. Tea. 



r>ECEM:BER. 

MONDAY. 

Breakfast — Fried chicken, cream sauce, potatoes 4 la 
.fiaitre d' h6tel, baked beans, brown bread, rolls, dry 
toast. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Ox-tail Soup. — Cut up 2 ox-tails, separating them at 
the joints; fry them with butter, together with 4 lbs. of 
gravy beef, a carrot, turnip, 3 onions, a leek, a head of 
celery, and a bunch of sweet herbs ; add a pint of water 
and a teaspoonful of peppercorns ; stir over the fire till 
the pan is covered with a glaze ; fill up the pot with 3 



116 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

qta. of wal.er, and when it boils set it where it will sim- 
mer until the tails are tender, then trim them and lay 
aside. Cut some turnips and carrots in fancy shape.' 
(about ^ a pt. of the two), 2 doz. button onions, and a 
head of celery ; boil them in a little soup till quite ten- 
der; strain off the soup through a fine napkin^ add the 
vegetables and tails, and season with salt, pepper, and a 
small piece of lump sugar. 

Sea-iass, hitter sauce. 

Broiled Chicken, oyster sauce ; with potatoes, can li- 
flower, and lima beans. 

Venison Steak 

Dessert 

Tapioca Pudding. — Simmer 4 oz. tapioca in a pint of 
milk, ten minutes; then add ^ pt. cream, a teaspoonful 
pounded cinnamon 4 oz. butter warmed, same of white 
sugar, and yolks of 4 eggs well beaten ; a little oil of 
almonds will improve the flavor, Bake half an hour. 

Custard Pie. 

Pears, grapes, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Pickled shad, cold mutton, clam fritters (make a 
batter as for common fritters, and stir in the clams 
chopped fine)^ steam toast, crackers, French bread, quince 
marmalade, cream cake, (1 lb. of flour, do. sugar, 1^ lbs 
of butter, ^ pt. milk, 4 eggs, citrons, raisins and spice.) 



•WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 11^ 

TUESDAY. 

'Breakfast. — Cold venisou pie, fried scallops, fried 
sweet potatoes, cream toast, potted fish, rolls. Chocolate 
and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Macaroni Soup, — A plain beef soup with Italian 
macaroni boiled in it. 

Frost fish fried. 

Roast Beef^ with baked potatoes, spinach, and beets. 

Chichen Croquettes. — Take the white meat and chop 
fine, with bread crumbs, sage leaves, pepper and salt, and 
one egg. Roll into balls and fry. 



Plum Pudding. — One lb. stoned raisins, do. currants, 
do. fresh beef suet chopped fine, 2 oz. sweet almonds, and 
1 of bitter, blanched and pounded ; mix together with 

1 lb. flour, do. bread crumbs, soaked in milk (squeezed 
dry, and reduced to a mash before mixing with the flour), 

2 oz. each of citron, preserved orange and lemon peel, 
and i oz. mixed spice (2 wine-glasses of brandy should 
be poured over the fruit and spice, mixed together, and 
allowed to stand 3 or 4 hours before the pudding ia 
made), \ lb. moist sugar beaten with 8 eggs ; stir all in 
the pudding, and make it thin enough with milk — con- 
sistence of good batter. It must be tied in a cloth, and 



118 WHAT SHALL "WE EAT? 

will take five hours' constaut boiling. When done, sift 
loaf sugar over the top, and serve with wine sauce. 

Crenie a la vaniUe. — Boil ^ a stick of vanilla in \ pt 
of new railk until it has a high fl;ivor ; have ready dit* 
eolved in water 1 oz. of isinglass, mix with the milk^ 
and \\ pts. of fine cream; sweeten with fine sugar, ;md 
Thip until quite thick, then pour into the mould, and 
"ct in a cool place. 

Pears grapes, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Potted game, sardines, cold chicken, cracker toast, 
rolls, stewed prunes, bread cake. 



WEDNESDAY. 

Breakfast. — Veal catlets, fried scallops, boiled hominy, 

cold boiled ham, rolls, flour griddle- cakes. Tea and 

coffee. 

DInner. 

Cottage Soup. — Two lbs. lean beef cat into small 
pieces, |- lb. bacon, 2 lbs. mealy potatoes, 3 oz. rice, car- 
rots, turnips, and onions sliced, or leeks and cabbage. 
Fry the meat, onions and cabbage in butter or dripping, 
and then put them in a gallon of water, to stew gently 
for 3 hours, putting in the rice, carrots, and turnips only 
long enough to allow them to get well done. Mash the 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 119 

potatoes, and pass through a colander, season well, and 
keep closely covered. It will make 5 pts. of excellent 
soup, at small cost. 

Stewed Eels. — Cut the eels in pieces, fry until brown, 
then let them cool. Take an onion, some parsley, a sage 
leaf chopped, and put them in some gravy with a clove, 
blade of mace, pepper and salt, a glass of port w:ne, and 
a little lemon-juice. Strain the sauce, thicktu with 
butter and flour, add a little catsup, and stir t/e eels 
until tender. 

Roast Lamh, mint sauce, with mashed potatoes baked 

macaroni baked with cheese, and turnips. 

Cold Quail pate. 

Dessert. 

Swm Pudding. — Put layers of bread crumbs and 
eliced apples, with sugar between, till the dish is full. 
Let the crumbs be uppermost, then put butter warmed 
over it, and bake. 

Squash Pie. — One qt. pulp strained, 1 qt. milk, with 
the squash stirred in when boiling, with two spoonfuls 
flour, 2 eggs, piece of butter size of an egg, season to 
taste with sugar, cinnamon, and a little salt. 

French chestnuts boiled, and pears. 
Tea, or Lunch. 

Cold game pie, cold roast beef, fried Indian pudding, 
toast, blackberry jam, cheese, bread and butter; jellj 



120 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

cake (make three or four thin sheets of cup cake, 1 cuf. 
butter, 2 of sugar, 3 of flour, acd 4 eggs, ^ teaspoonful 
of soda, and 1 of cream of tartar, latter shaken in thft 
flour dry, and spread with jelly, laying one over the 
other). Chocolate. 



THURSDAY. 

Breahfast. — Lamb chops, fried oysters, cold tongue, 
corn pone, Graham biscuit, rolls. Tea and coff"ee. 

Dinner 

Gravy Soup. — Lean beef in the proportion of 1 pt. 
water to 1 lb. meat, and 2 oz. of ham ; cover with water 
and simmer for 3 hours, during which time it must not 
boil, as the pores of the meat will then be opened and 
the gravy drawn, throw in 3 qts. of warm water, with 
^ oz. each of pepper, allspice, and salt, as well as sweet 
herbs, cloves, 2 or 3 carrots and turnips, together with 
2 heads of celery, and boil all slowly till the meat is 
done to rags. Strain it well. It will keen well. 

Fried Perch. 

Roast Chickens^ with cauliflower, boiled rice, and 
sweet potatoes ; cranberry sauce. 

Calfs Brains^ fried in hatter. 



WHAT JsHALL WE EAT? 121 



Lemon Pie. 

Charlotte Russe. — Line the bottom of a mold with 
Savoy biscuits, or sponge cakes, and fill it with any kinu 
Oi cream, according to taste. 

Apples, grapes, and hickory nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Ham cake, cold birds, omelet, crackers, corn bread, 
rolls, stewed pears ; cheese cake, (^ lb. butter, do. sugar, 
beaten together, 4 eggs, ^ pt. milk with half the egg 
boiled together till it becomes a curd, stirred with a 
knife, with 2 oz. grated bread thrown in. Stir all into 
the butter and sugar, with the rest of the egg, and add 
i lb. currants, ^ glass wine or brandy, and teaspoonful 
of cinnamon, mace, and nutmeg mixed. Bake in a paste 
^ an hour.) 



FRIDAY. 



Breakfast.— QVxokQn hash, sausage toast, minced sal' 
codfish with potatoes, fried hominy, Indian griddle-eako8 
bread and butter, toast. Tea and coffee. 

Dinner. 

Jhicken hrothy with rice. 
Striped Bass, hroHed, 
6 



122 WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 

Roast Go^se with apple-sauce, tomatoes, potatoes, 
and beets ; chow-chow pickle. 

Broiled Oysters. 

Dessert. 

Baked Indian Pudding. — Boil a pint of milk, and int^ 
it stir 1 cup meal, do. molasses, one teaspoonful Fait, 
first mixed with a little cold milk ; boil it, and pour it 
into a deep earthenware pot, well buttered, and with a 
pint of cold milk in it ; add one egg and a teaspoonful of 
ginger. Bake in a slow oven. 

Wine Jelly. 

Oranges, filberts, and dates. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Boned turkey, sardines, cold roast chicken, brown 
bread, milk toast, bread, crackers and cheese, stewed 
peaches, La Gralette cake (1 lb. of flour, do. butter, 
2 eggs ; knead ah into a paste, and make the size of a 
lessert plate ; pui in the oven \ of an hour, then take it 
:>ut, beat up 2 more eggs with a little cream and salt, 
pour over the cake, and bake \ of an hour more). 



SATURDAY. 
Breakfast. — Cold roast goose, head cheese, corned beef 
lash, stewed potatoes, steam toast, muffins, bread, '^ea 
and coflfee. 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 123 

Dinner. 

Potato Soup. — Take large mealy potatoes, peel and 
cut in small slices, with an onion; boil in 3 pts. water 
till tender, and pulp through a colander. Add a small 
piece of butter, a little cayenne pepper, and salt, and just 
before the soup is served 2 spoonfuls of good cream. It 
must not boil after the cream is put in. 

Roast Oysters^ oti toast. 

Boiled Corned Beef^ with rice croquettes, potatoes, and 
cabbage. 

Partridges roasted ; currant jelly. 

Dessert. 
Peach Pic. 

Cream Meringues. — (From the Confectioner.) 
Oranges and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 

Chicken Salad. — (Cut the meat from 2 fowls, boiled or 
roasted, in pieces not exceeding an inch ; white part of 2 
large bunches of celery in the same way, mix together 
cover, and set away. Mash the yolks of 9 hard boiled 
eggs to a paste, and mix with ^ pt. sweet oil, do. vine- 
gar, a gill mustard, a teaspoonful cayenne, and cne oi 
salt. Stir till well mixed and smooth. Then set away. 
Five minutes before the salad is wanted, pour the dressing 
on, and mix well). Cold veal, boiled rice, rolls and 



i 24 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

Vead, canned peaches. French Cake — Bolas di^Amor (\\ 
lb!s. Sour, 1 cup yeast, ^ pt. milk warmed, 1 lb. butter 
4 eggs. Make a hole in the flour, and pour in the milk 
eggs, and yeast. Mix all together, beating in the buttei 
by degrees, and let it stand an hour to rise. Mix in -^ 
lb. sifted sugar ; ornament with citron). Tea and chooo- 
^ate. 



SUNDAY. 
Breakfast. — Broiled ham, cold roast pork, chipped po- 
tatoes, buckwheat cakes, gems, rolls. Tea and coflfee. 

Dinner. 

Winter Soup. — 2 carrots, do. turnips, and the heart 
of a head of celery. Cut into small pieces with 6 button 
onions, and half boil in salt and water, with a little su- 
gar, then throw into a rich beef broth. A.dd small 
dumplings boiled in water, just before serving. 

Fried 'Trout. 

Stewed Chichens — "With macaroni stewed, and pota- 
toes. Cut in pieces and scald, fry in butter with sweet 
herbs chopped, pepper and salt, and add boiling water 
and flour. Stew until cooked, and add a tablespoon of 
cream, yolk of an egg, and a little lemon juice. 

Quail on Toast. 

Dessert. 

Batter Pudding. — 1 qt. milk, 6 eggs, 14 tablespoons 



^ WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 125 

flo'^r, a little salt. Boil 1 hour and 10 minutes; rold 
wiLe sauce. 

Brandy Peaches. 

Prunes, grapes, and nuts. 

Tea, or Lunch. 
Cold beef, partridge pate, steam toast, muj0&ns; \re 
served plums, bread, tea, cookies (1 cup butter, 2 sugir, 
5 flour, 1 egg, 4 tablespoons milk, and spice). 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 127 



APPENDIX 



Pichlet and Sauces. — Avoid all use of metal vessela 
in their preparation, use wooden spoons, and keep in 
fride-mcuthed bottles. 

To Pickle small Cucumlers. — Take one hundred — in Sep^ 
tember — place in a deep stone jar, sprinkle with a pint of 
salt, pour on boiling water, and cover tight, that no steam 
evaporate. Let them stand twenty-four hours. Wipo 
each one dry with a cloth. 

Place in an unglazed jar, and cover with boiling vine 
gar, spiced, with cloves, whole pepper and mace. Eat 
ifter two weeks. The same proportion for any number. 

To Fickle Cauliflower. — Strip off the leaves, quarter 
the stalk, and scald in salt and water till soft ; dry on 
a sieve, and cut in small pieces after twenty-four hours ; 
place in a jar, and cover with cold spiced vinegar : seal up. 

To Pickle Eggs. — Boil hard, twelve or more, and lay 
into cold water ; peel off the shells, and lay whole into 
a stone jar, with mace, cloves, and nutmegs. Fill up 
with boiling vinegar, cover close ; after three days scald 
the vinegar again, and pour over ; cork tight. Use ic 
two weeks. 



128 WHAT SHALL WB EAT? 

To PichJe Mushrooms. — Clean, and place in layers 
sprinkled with salt, for two days ; add whole black pep- 
per and spice ; cover close, and set in a cool oven for an 
hour. Strain off the liquor, and add cloves, mace, and 
allspice. Let it boil, then throw the mushrooms in, set 
away till cold, then add a little vinegar, and pot. 

To Pickle Walnuts. — Gather about the middle ot 
July ; prick with a needle, and put into water for three 
days, changing the water every day. Make a strong brine 
of salt and water, boil and skim; when cold, take one 
gallon to every hundred walnuts. Let them stand six (6) 
days, change the water, and leave six days more. Drain, 
and expose to the sun, so they may turn black. Make 
a strong pickle of wine vinegar, flavored with cloves, 
mace, whole pepper, mustard-seed, and horse-radish. 
Allow to every hundred walnuts, six spoonfuls of mus- 
tard-seed, with one of whole pepper. They will be good 
for years ; not fit for use for six months, however. 

To Pichle Lemons. — Take the finest, with thick rinds ; 
cut incisions, and fill them with salt. Put on a dish, 
and lay near the fire, or in a hot sun ; repeat the opera- 
tion several times. 

Make a pickle of the best of cider vinegar, spiced 
with cloves, allspice and ginger, and pour over whe» 
cold ; bottle tight, and keep for years. 



WHAT shall we eat? 129 

Walnut Vinegar. — Put walnut shells into a strong 
brine for ten days, then lay in the sun for a week to dry 
Place in jar, and cover with boiling vinegar. In Un 
days pour it off, and boil again. Then stand for a month, 
and it will be fit for use ; excellent for cold meat, and 
flavoring sauces. 

Cucumber Vinegar. — Pare and slice fifteen large ones ; 
place in a stone jar, with three pints of vinegar, four large 
onions also sliced, two large spoonfuls of salt, three tea- 
spoonfuls of pepper, and one half a one of cayenne ; 
-,fter standing four days, boil, and strain when cold, and 
bottle. 

Sauce Universal- — Take one pint mushroom catsup, 
one glass of port-wine, and a teaspoonful of vinegar, one 
do. black pepper, salt, allspice, and minced onion. Set it 
in a jar in water, increasing the heat to 90° Fahrenheit ; 
stand twenty-four hours. Then after one week strain 
and bottle ; a great addition to gravies. 

To Flavor Vinegar. — Take any kind of fruit, or herb, 
and boil in it a short time, and bottle when cold ; a great 
addition to cutlets. 

Jersey Fickle. — Slice and chop one peck green tomatos, 
tix peppers and/owr onions; throw over them one cup ol 
6* 



130 WHAT SHALL WE EAT ? 

Bait, and let them stand twentj-four hours; theu irain, 
and put into a stewpan, cover with the best of cider vit- 
egar, stewing slowly. Add one cup brown sugar, tw<i 
spoonfuls horse-radish grated, one of powdered cloves, one 
cf allspice, one of ciimamon, and boil full three hours \ 
bottle in wide-mouthed jar, and seal. 

Chile Sauce. — Three peppers chopped fine, seeds in- 
cluded ; one large onion, twelve ripe tomatoes, peeled ; one 
tablespoonful of salt, one of sugar, one teaspoonful of all- 
spice, do. cloves, do. ginger, do. nutmeg, two tea-cups of 
best of vinegar ; boil well one hour and bottle. 

Tomato Catsiqj — One gallon of skinned toraatoeS; 
boiled and strained; then add,/(9i<r tablespoonfuls of salt, 
four tablespoons of black pepper, tivo of allspice, itvo of 
cinnamon ^ one of red pepper pure, one quart wine vine- 
gar ; boil well one hour, bottle and seal, when cold. 
Keep in a dry place. 

Mushroom Catsup. — Break up the mushrooms, scrap- 
ing off the dirt with a knife ; place in layers in an earthen 
pan, sprinkling with salt. Cover the pan with a towel, 
for twenty four hours, rub them up, and strain through a 
muslin, squeezing out all the juice. To every quart add 
one tablespoonful of black peppers, whole, one teaspoonful 
3f allspice, one half do. of cayenne, one dozen cloves, and 
^mir large blades of mace ; boil i^lowly four hours, pom 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 131 

into p. bowl or deep dish to S(jttle for twenty-four hours 
covered. Then pour gently through a fine hair-seive, 
and put intc small bottles, putting in the top of each one 
a few drops of olive-oil and sealing the cork ; it will keep 
for years, in a cool place. 

Preserves and Confectionery.— ^yqtj article of this 
kind should be made of the best of sugar, and small 
fruits for jams, previously boiled to evaporate the 
watery particles, before adding the requisite amount. 
The following is the best method we have seen for pre- 
serving fruit. 

Melt one pouud of sugar in one half-pint of water, 
and put into every quart-bottle of fruit. Place the 
bottles in boiler, or steaming-box, in cold water, raising 
tlio heat to boiling point : have ready corks steamed so 
as to be flexible, force them by blows from a mallet. 
Pare the corks close to the bottle. Have ready a vessel 
of melted sealing wax, of the following ingredients: One 
pound of rosin, three ounces be-swax, one and a half ot 
tallow ; have ready a brush, and cover the corks, then 
dip the mouth into the melted wax ; then transfer it to a 
cold basin of water. Repeat the operation, and see that 
the wax is smooth and complete. Pack away in a cool 
dry cellar, excluding all light. Examine after one week| 
to 8ee if there were flaws in the bottle ; or any marks of 



; 32 WHAT SHALL WE EAT f 

.crnientation. Peaches and pears should be dropped 
into cold water, to prevent their color changing after 
paring. 

To Keep Grapes in Brandy. — Take large, close bunches, 
black or white ; lay them in a jar, put the weight ol 
tbem in powdered sugar over them, and cover with 
brandy. Tie down with a bladder ; prick the grapes with 
a pin, first. 

To preserve Strawberries in Wine. — Put large fine 
ones in a wide-mouthed bottle, strew over with fine sugar, 
SU up with Madeira wine or Sherry. 

To preserve Oranges or Lemons m Jelly. — Make a hole 
the size of a shilling, and scrape the pulp out clean ; lay 
in soft water for two days, then boil tender, slowly ; to 
every pound of fruit, take two of sugar, and one pint of 
water ; boil with the juice to a syrup, then boil the fruit 
m the syrup half an hour. 

Marmalades. — Boil ripe apricots in syrup ; beat in a 
n^.ortar, take half their weight in loaf sugar, and water to 
dissolve it ; boil well together till thick. 

Orange Compote. — Lay the oranges in water four 
hours, boil till tender, cut in halves, and take out the in- 
«ides ; to every pound of peel, well pounded, add one cl 



WHAT SHALL WE EAT? 133 

sngar; tai^e out the seeds, add the weight in sugar tc 
that, and beat ; mix and pot. 

To dry Cherries without Sugar. — Stone, and set them 
over the fire, letting them simmer in their own liquor • 
let them get cold; give them another scald, and spread 
on sieves to dry, in a cool oven. 

Orange Syrup. — Take large, deep-coloured oranges, 
and throw into water for twelve hours; put into a cloth 
and boil, cut in quarters ; and after taking out the pulp, 
throw into cold water. Make a thick syrup, and add 

^he nulp. 

Colouring for Jellies. — For yellow^ yolk of eggs, or a 
'^it of saifron steeped in the liquid. For green^ spinacla 
leaves, or beet leaves. For red^ beet root sliced. 

Bonbons. — Clear off the sugar from fresh candied 
citron ; cut into squares one inch thick, stick on a bit of 
•wire, and dip into liquid syrup ; wet a dish with a few 
drops of pure olive oil, and lay the fruit to cooh 

Tojie. — Melt in a stewpan, three ounces of butter, 
add one pound of moist sugar, stir well over a slow fire, 
boil one quarter of an hour ; pour out on buttered dishes 
Wid mark in squares. 

Candied Fruit. — ^hen boiled in the syrup, put a 



134 WHAT SHATI WE EAT? 

layer on a new sieve, and dip it suddenly into hot water 
drain, and cover with sifted sugar ; dry in a warm ovea 
turning over frequently. 

Rasplerry or Blackberry Vinegar. — Take a jar of vine- 
gar and fill with fruit; let it stand for three days : strain, 
tnd for every pint of juice, add one pound of sugar; boil 
Ap once, and skim ; bottle and seal. 



Fisia 



TILL THE DOCTOR COMES, 



AND 



HOW TO HELP HIM. 



BY 

GEORGE H. HOPE, 

M.D., M.R.C.S.E. 
REVISED, WITH ADDITIONS BY A NEW YORK PHYSICIARe 



NEW YORK 

G. p. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 AND 29 West 23d Street 



Entered according to act of Congress in tiie year 18W» 

Bt G. p. PUTNAM & SONS, 

la the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washingfcoa. 



PKEFACE TO THE AMEKICAN EDITION. 



IN preparing this little volume for the American public, 
it has seemed to me not advisable to make any essen- 
tial change in its original plan. Its style is attractive, 
and I have in many instances done little else than give 
familiar names in place of those which are less well known 
in this country. My aim has been to simplify the text, 
and with this view I have omitted several prescriptions 
more elaborate than could well be made up in a family, 
and have struck out several subjects where I thought the 
risk of delay would be less than that of treatment at 
non-medical hands. I have added a few short paragraphs 
on subjects to which our wide extent of country, and our 
peculiarities of climate, give an every -day importance 
they do not possess in England. In some few cases where 
my views of the best treatment have differed from the 
author's, I have substituted such directions as I thought 
did justice to myself, and would prove of the great- 
est service to those who may consult this book. But I 
would say to those who learn from these pages how they 
may well employ the anxious moments till the doctor 
comes and takes the responsibility upon his shoulders, 
that their thanks are justly due to the English author, 
much more than to the American Editor. 

J. ILE. 
AprU, 1871. 



conte:n^ts 



PAGE. 

Afliatic cliolera, or cholera 

morbus 61 

Baths, bathing, etc. ... 80 

Beds and bedding .... 13 

Bed sores 74 

Bleeding, and how to stop it 32 

Blow or fall, wounds from a 31 

Boils 72 

Bowel complaints .... 63 
Broken bones — 

Arm, above the elbow . 38 

Arm, below the elbow . 38 

Collar-bone 36 

Elbow joint 38 

General remarks ... 40 

Hand, foot, or ankle . . 38 

Head 36 

Hip joint 39 

Knee, cap of the ... 39 

Leg, below the knee . . 40 

Ribs with a wound . . 37 

Ribs without a wound . 37 

Thigh 39 

Burns and scalds .... 25 

Carbuncles 72 

Cautions against common 

errors 87 

Cliilblains 79 

Choking 76 

Cholera 61 



PACIB. 

Cholera morbas .... 63 

Cold bath 80 

Colic 65 

Common cold and influenza 68 

Croup 66 

Cuts on the head . . . , 3<J 

Diarrhoea 63 

Dislocations, or limbs out of 
joint — 

Hip 43 

Jaw 41 

Neck 41 

Shoulder 42 

Thumb 42 

Wrist, knee, or ankle . . 43 

Drowning, how to restore 

from 50 

Dysentery 65 

Ear-ache 74 

Eye, things in the .... 74 

Fever 53 

Fire, persons on ... . 25 
Fish-hooks and crochet-nee- 
dles, to get out . . . . 31 

Fits 69 

Frost-bites 78 

Frozen, people being ... 7? 

Hooping-cough 66 

How to bear pain .... 9 



CONTENTS. 



Infant, how to lielp with 
Influenza , 



PAGE, 

an 9U 
. 69 



Leeches, how to use . 
Lungs, bleeding from 



Measles . . . . 
Medicine chest, the 
Miscellaneous . . 



Nose and ear, things in 
Nose, bleeding from the 
Nurses and nursing . 
Nails, in-growing . . 

Pain in the face . , 
Poisons and poisoning 
Presence of mind . . 

Rheumatic fever . . 



Scalds 

Scarlet fever . . . 
Shin, woands on the 
Shower bath, the . 
Sick-room, the . . 



35 

59 
22 
71 

75 
32 
15 
73 

74 

45 

7 

81 

25 

56 
31 
81 
11 



I PAGE. 

Small-pox 59 

Splinters and nails, wounds 

from 50 

Sprains 43 

Stomach, bleeding into . . 34 
Sunstroke 76 

Taking things quietly . . 7 

Thrush 95 

Toe-nails, in-growing ... 73 

Tooth-ache 74 

Tooth-rash 95 



Ulcers of the leg 
Useful hints . . 



71 
81 



Vapor bath, the 81 

Varicose veins 35 

Veins, enlargement of . . 35 

Ventilation 12 

Vomiting blood 34 

Warm bath 81 

Whitlow 73 

Worms 97 

Wounds 30 



Tn^L THE DOOTOE COMES. 



TAKING THINGS QUIETLY. 

A SHORT time since a man met with an accident, hav* 
ing Ms wrist cut with a piece of a broken jug. 
This man, residing in one of the largest cities in the world, 
surrounded by thousands of people, the largest hospitals, 
and the best doctors, was allowed to bleed to death, and 
his wife had to stand her trial for murder, all for the 
want of a little knowledge, a little common sense, used 
at the proper time. 

The occurrence much impressed my mind with the 
need of a few hints and instructions, as to what is best to 
be done in the case of accident or sudden illness, especi- 
ally by those who reside at a distance from the nearest 
surgeon. I therefore propose to write, in the very plain- 
est language, a few directions and suggestions. But no 
one can always foretell whether a matter will prove se- 
rious or not. What I may write, therefore, is not to take 
the place of the advice or care of a doctor, but merely 
that people may employ the time profitably while they 
are waiting till the doctor comes. As he is not likely 
to come till he knows he is wanted, the first thinor will be 
to send to him, and while the messenger is away, let us 
consider what to do. 

Well, then, let us suppose an accident has happened, 
what is the first thing we want ? Presence of mind, self 



8 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

control, and the power of keeping silent when it is best 
to do so. Of all the miserable hindering nuisances, there 
is none worse than persons who, just at the time when 
their services are most required, begin to scream, run 
wildly about, put themselves in every one's way, hinder 
other people, are not able to give a sensible answer, per- 
haps faint, or go into hysterics, or pretend to do so. 

Every one knows that all have not the same gifts, all 
have not the same strength of nerve. Most people have 
naturally a feeling of dread and of nervous horror at the 
sight of blood; and this is quite natural, for blood al- 
ways suggests to the mind suffering or death. Still, much 
can be done by mere force of will, determination, facing 
the thing bravely. Not that we should be hard-hearted, 
and have no sympathy with our fellow creatures when 
suffering. But by a determination to conquer one's self, in 
plain language to make one's self go through it, this can be 
done, and is done by hundreds every day. Some ignor- 
ant people will tell you that a doctor has no feeling for 
his patient, but they know little of the truth. Ask those 
who live with them and know them, and hear their re- 
marks about the painful operations they have had to per- 
form, and how nobly the poor patient bore it. Ask Flor- 
ence Nightingale and the noble women who without 
pay or reward attend in our hospitals, and in the dwell- 
ings of the poorest of the poor, who witness and dress 
every description of wound and accident. Almost 
every description of loathsome disease is nursed by these 
tenderly brought up ladies — accidents by machinery 
tearing the body to pieces, accidents by fire, where not 
only is the poor sufferer a frightful object, but where the 
peculiar sickening smell of burnt flesh seems to cling to 
the person and clothing for days afterwards. Do not they 
suffer when others are in pain ? Yes, truly ; but they have 
taught themselves to bear it, so that they can overcome 



TAKING THINGS QUIETLY. 9 

their feelings. Let us strive to conquer ourselves, to be 
calm when accidents happen or sudden illness comes on, 
80 that we may be useful to others in their distress. 

There is a wonderful difference in the way in which 
pain affects individuals. The injury which will be borne 
by one with scarcely a word of complaint, will force an- 
other to cry out and writhe about. A sailor, or a man 
accustomed to labor in the open fields, or any person 
taken suddenly from an active life, cannot be expected to 
bear confinement to bed, or even to one position, as well 
as another who has been employed sitting at some indoor 
occupation. It is well for nurses and friends to bear this 
in mind, and not to be easily made cross or impatient. 
For many years I had to do with one of our largest hos- 
pitals. I scarcely ever had a healthy sailor come into the 
house with a broken limb, who did not manage to kick off 
splints, bandages, and so on regularly the first few nights. 
But it is only for a short time, they soon become quiet 
and accustomed to the confinement. 

Let all who have to suffer, remember a few simple truths. 
When they give way, they add greatly to the distress and 
confusion of those who are with them, they very much 
hinder their own recovery, and when the pain is over 
reflect upon themselves for not having been braver. It 
is indeed wonderful what can be done, when a person 
makes up his mind to grin and bear it, as the soldiers say. 
I have marvelled how any one could possibly bear up un- 
der slow cutting operations or accidents. A curious in- 
stance, but a very instructive one, occurred to me some 
years ago, before chloroform was invented. A large, 
well-made, healthy seaman was brought into the hospital 
with his leg so terribly crushed that it was necessary to 
take it off some distance above the knee. I said to him, 
" Jack, I am very sorry to have to tell you, that the only 
thing which can be done with this unfortunate leg is to 
1* 



10 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

take it off; we cannot save it, you know we cannot splice 
it or fish it like a mast." 

" No," he replied, " I can see that ; well, it must be 
done, it 'ill never be seaworthy any more ; how long will 
it take doing it ?" So I told him only a very short time. 
" Oh, well," he said, " cut the wreck adrift, and fit a tim- 
ber one, I'll bear it." 

So the limb was taken off without one groan or one 
word of complaint. But as the house-surgeon was put- 
ting on a bandage, he accidentally pricked him with a 
pin, when he immediately cried out, "Hallo, Mr. Sur- 
geon, the point of that marling-spike's rather sharp, that's 
too bad." 

So I said, " Why Jack, how is this ? — you bore having 
your leg taken off like a brave fellow, as you are, without 
speaking one word, and now, when only the point of a 
pin touches you, you call out ?" 

" Ah, sir," he said, " don't you see, I made up my 
mind to have my leg cut off ? I told you I'd bear it, but I 
made no bargain about the pin-sticking business." 

This is a most excellent example of what I mean by 
" making up the mind to bear it." But, alas for us poor 
men, we do not as a general rule bear pain well ; we are 
used to an active, busy, out-of-door life, more so than 
women ; we are apt to be cross when suffering or com- 
pelled to be still, and need a good deal of coaxing and 
petting to behave properly ; but let us try our best, and 
if we meet with any accident to which man's occupation 
makes him liable, let us always bear in mind that the 
most terrible accidents which tear a man to pieces are 
not the most painful. The larger the surface burned or 
scalded the less the pain, and the diseases which cause the 
greatest suffering are not by any means the most fatal. 

Pain is in every case the result of something being 
wrong either in mind or body, and though it may be hard 



THE SICK ROOM. 11 

to bear, it is not entirely an evil. It is a merciful provis« 
ion to warn us of danger, or to tell us we are committing 
some error. If a child puts its hand into the flame of a 
candle, the pain teaohes it to snatch it away in a moment, 
before it has time to do serious injury. A person 
using a knife, and cutting into the finger, is instantly 
warned to stop, he is doing harm. Or suppose the cloth- 
ing of a very aged or infirm person were to take fire, 
when left alone and asleep, the cry of sufiering will 
bring assistance, whereas, if there were no pain, he might 
be burned so severely as to cause death, and not be aware 
of what was going on. 

One other remark, and I finish this part of the subject, 
and this I address particularly to husbands. When you 
feel inclined to be cross and think yourself very badly 
used, look at your wife, or if not married, look upon your 
mother, and reflect that each time a child was born she 
suffered an agony of pain such as you can have no con- 
ception of, such as you have never felt and never can feel. 
And yet in a few minutes after this anguish she will greet 
you with a sweet smiling countenance. Let us do our 
best, and in our time of suffering let us be gentle and 
kind to those who are doing their best for us. A great 
deal may be done by trying. 

And now having brought patients and attendants to- 
gether, I will endeavor in the next chapter to see how 
they can best employ the time till the doctor comes. 



THE SICK ROOM. 

If you are so fortunate as to have a choice of room??, 
do not put your patient into one which is dark and gloomy, 
but let it be light and cheerful, and with a fireplace if 
possible. 

If the illness be fever, something wrong with the eyi'd 



12 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

or brain, or other sickness requiring quiet, a back room 
away from the family will answer best ; the patient will 
not care to look at anything or to speak much, and quiet 
is necessary. But if he be suffering from an accident, let 
him be near the rest of the family where you can speak to 
him. This will help to keep him contented and cheerful, 
for it will be an amusement to him to watch your move- 
K^ents while you are going on with your work, and it will 
sav3 time in waiting upon him. 

Avoid a room which is exposed to disagreeable effluvia 
from any source. 

Never have the window so fastened that you cannot 
open it, especially from the top. Be careful not to have 
much furniture in the room, particularly if the disease be 
infectious. Bear in mind that woollen articles hold smells 
much longer than cotton or linen, therefore do not have 
woollen curtains. It is better to have no curtains at all, 
but if you think the room looks bare and cheerless use 
light muslin, or something which will easily wash. 

Have no woollen-covered sofa or chairs ; cane-bottomed 
or plain wood are preferable, and a clean boarded floor, 
kept sweet by scrubbing and elbow-grease, is infinitely 
better without any carpet, excepting, perhaps, a narrow 
strip for you to walk upon just to prevent noise. In case 
of accident, the bed may be placed where the patient feels 
most comfortable, only it should be where there is a good 
light to see and dress the wound ; but in fever and small- 
pox let it be between the door and the fireplace. The 
reason for this is that as the fire cannot burn without air 
there must be a draught to feed it, and as this becomes 
heated and rushes up the chimney, it is replaced by a fresh 
supply drawn in through the door and window. In this 
way the chimney acts as a ventilating shaft, carrying away 
the impurities of the room, and so helps to prevent the 
disease spreading. It is clear, therefore, that if a person 



THE SICK EOOM. 13 

Stands between the bed and the fireplace, he must get the 
air after it has been contaminated by passing over the pa- 
tient ; whereas, on the other side — that is, between the bed 
and the door — he breathes the air pure. If from the form 
of the room the bed cannot be placed in this position, let 
there always be sufficient space left between the window 
and the bed to stand in. 

If the room has not been used for some time, do not 
put the patient into it until you have lit the fire and seen 
if the chimney draws well. If it be damp and cold, most 
likely it will not, and it is too late to discover this after 
the sufferer is put to bed. I remember an instance where 
an old gentleman was taken suddenly ill with a chest com- 
plaint ; he was carefully placed in bed, a blister put on the 
chest, and medicine given to promote perspiration. This 
was just at the commencement of winter, and a fire was re- 
quired, but on endeavoring to kindle it, every particle of 
smoke seemed to pour into the room. In a few minutes it 
was filled; my poor patient, with the difficulty of breath- 
ing from the disease and the smoke combined, was in a 
miserable plight. Doors and windows had to be thrown 
wide open, and then, to complete the confusion, a poor 
terrified swallow, which had built its nest in one of the 
flues, forced its way down the chimney, its feathers of 
course covered with soot. The poor bird, so rudely dis- 
turbed out of its sleep, dashed wildly about the room, 
leaving plenty of black marks against walls, if not also 
against our characters for our want of forethought. A 
smoky chimney may often be cured by holding a lighted 
newspaper a little way up the flue. This warms the air 
and causes it to ascend. 

As to the bed itself. The best is no doubt a hair mat- 
tress, but as this is so expensive, I shall merely say if you 
have one, use it, but unless you are obliged, do not use 
one made of feathers. It is too soft, and the patient sinks 



14 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

into holes, so that in case of wounds or burns you cannot 
get to them properly. Besides, if the feathers get wet 
you cannot put them right again. Good clean straw or 
chaff, well and evenly packed in, is far better. It costs 
much less to begin with, it is more comfortable, and very 
much superior in point of health, and has this great ad- 
vantage, that in case of being spoiled it can be emptied, 
the cover washed and refilled without loss of time and 
at a very trifling expense. 

It is a disadvantage to have the bed too wide. If the 
patient be lying in the middle and needs help, the nurse 
is obliged to lift either kneeling on the bed or at arm's 
length, a position which takes away all her strength and 
causes a very painful strain on the muscles. If you are 
obliged to use a wide bed, a good plan is to make a divis- 
ion down the middle with a board a few inches high cov- 
ered with the under bedclothes. This not only prevents 
the invalid slipping away from you but answers the pur- 
pose in some degree of two beds. 

When you want to change the bedclothes, and the pa- 
tient cannot get up, proceed in this way : roll up the clothes 
to be changed tightly to the middle, lengthwise, not 
across the bed ; put on the clean things with half the width 
rolled up close to the other roll, lift the patient on to the 
newly made part, slip off the clothes he has just been lift- 
ed from, unroll the clean ones, and it is finished without 
any difliculty. 

If you have time before you put the patient to bed 
scour the floor right well, and wash it with hot water, with 
a few cents' worth of chloride of lime mixed with it, or if 
you cannot get this, use a good-sized piece of quicklime, 
and rub well up into the cracks and corners. Do not be 
anxious to remove the whole of the lime. If you leave a 
little sticking in the crevices and pores of the wood it will 
prevent insects, give a clean, sweet smeU to the place, and 



NUKSES AKD NUKSOfG. 15 

help to keep away infection. Now dry it thoroughly, and 
the room is ready for the invalid. 



NURSES AND NURSING. 

It is a great error to suppose that only women can 
nurse. I have frequently met with men, particularly hus- 
bands, who have been quite as gentle in their touch, quite 
as thoughtful about little wants, and far more tender and 
considerate than almost any woman. A man's strength 
is a great advantage. Ask a wife who requires lifting 
from the bed, and she will tell you what a comfort it 
was to feel her husband's strong arms under her : she felt 
so safe. It is a dreadful feeling for a patient not to have 
perfect confidence in the power of the person assisting ; 
the dread of being let fall may give a fright which will 
take days to recover from. Let every man put away the 
foolish idea that it is only a woman's work. 

Now there are five qualifications which we require in a 
nurse — Sobriety, Cleanliness, Firmness, Gentleness, and 
Patience. 

Sobriety. — All I shall say on this point is, if unfortu- 
nately you cannot resist temptation, do not come near 
us — the sick room is no place for you, Ave dare not trust 
you. 

Cleanliness. — Be always very clean yourself, and keep 
the room sweet. A very little thing will spoil the appe- 
tite of a person already sick. Never let anything offen- 
sive, any dressings from a wound or burn, remain in the 
room. Let every vessel be emptied as soon as it is done 
with, well washed out. and left in the open air. Change 
the air frequently by opening tlie window; remember, bad 
air will poison a person as surely as bad food. The poi- 
son of fever is dangerous or not according as you weaken 
it with fresh air — just as you make spirit weaker by add 



16 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

ing water. Do not leave food in a room if the patient 
cannot eat it. Do not let the drinking water stand long 
without being changed, as it absorbs whatever gases there 
are in the room ; so that when the patient drinks it you 
are actually putting back into his stomach the poison which 
had been thrown out through the skin. Why do people 
put buckets of water into a place newly painted ? — because 
they know that the water takes up the smell of turpentine 
and oil as it escapes from the walls. 

Firmness. — Remember firmness is not rudeness. You 
cannot expect a suffering patient to know as well what is 
best for him as those whose brains are clear. Therefore 
if a certain thing is best to be done, do it ; do it kindly, 
but do it, he will thank you for it afterwards. 

Gentleness. — Whatever you have to do for the patient, 
be gentle. In cases of rheumatism or broken limbs you 
must change the clothes, however painful the process, but 
do it gently, and cause no needless suffering. With care 
all jerks and knocks may be avoided. And lastly. 

Patience. — Never forget the difference between your- 
self and the person under your care. Did you never 
yourself feel irritable and restless even when you were 
well ? Have there not been some days when you had 
been so easily put out, so cross that you have been al- 
most ashamed of yourself? How, then, must it be with 
the person taken suddenly from an active life and com- 
pelled to lie still in one position, or with one whose whole 
body is racked with pain ! Never lose patience, however 
sorely tried ; bear with these trials for a while, and by- 
and-by you will have your reward. 

Few people are aw^re of the great value of a good nurse, 
or of the number of valuable lives saved by good nurs- 
ing. On the other hand, few are aware of the number of 
lives actually thrown away, and their chance of recove/y 
lost, by the want of faithful, c^-reful nursing. Every doc- 



NUKSES AND NURSING. 17 

tor can tell you how he has been disappointed, vexe 1, 
and his best efforts rendered useless by want of knowl- 
edge, and that stupid obstinacy which almost always 
go hand in hand with ignorance. He will also tell you 
that it was the honest, sensible nurse who savei his pa- 
tient by faithfully carrying out his directions. 

It is not every one who is fit for a nurse ; not because 
they wilfully do wrong, but they are not Cfut out for it. 
Nursing is, in a great measure, a natural gift, either in 
man or woman; just as music, painting, and other things 
are. There are many good-hearted yet thoughtless peo- 
ple who, with all the training in the world, would never 
make good handy nurses. 

The French have a saying that " Some people's fin- 
gers are all thumbs," — what we should call awkward peo- 
ple^ people who are everlastingly getting into some trou- 
ble. Here is one of them. If she is going up-stairs with 
her hands full, she steps on to the bottom of her dress, 
and either drops what she is carrying or goes down her- 
self. If the fire wants coal, she throws on a whole scut- 
tleful, a good part of which comes thundering doAvn on 
the fender, and terrifies the poor patient so that he will 
not be at rest for hours ; or she has a hole in her dress, 
or a bit of braid loose, which catches the end of the fire- 
irons as she passes, and rattles them down. If she is of 
an age to wear caps, she will have the strings so long that 
when she stoops over the patient to catch his whisper, 
the ends will tickle his face. You will generally find at 
least one of her fingers bound up with rag tied on with 
black cotton. If a little bread and butter is wanted, she 
will be sure to fix upon the knife that has been used for 
peeling onions. If there be any cookery going on in the 
next room, you may feel pretty sure the door will be left 
open, so that a good strong smell of frying bacon, or 
whatever it may be, will fill the patient's room, making 



18 TILL THE DOCTOK COMES. 

him feel quite sick ; and then she will be grieved because 
he says he can't eat a morsel of food. Suppose he wishes 
for a glass of water; she first of all fills it up to tlie 
brim, puts her hand under his head, bends his neck till his 
chin touches his breast, then puts the glass to his lips, 
trickles a good part of it on to his clothes, and thinks he 
is very awkward to choke over a mouthful of water. If 
she has occasion to light a candle, she sticks it in between 
tlie bars, which soon fills the room with a rank smell of 
burning fat, and when she takes it out the tallow is melt- 
ed oflf, till the wick is a couple of inches long, and coated 
over with fine ash like the head of a bulrush ; or if it be 
gas, she takes a short bit of paper, turns the gas full on, 
makes a sudden blaze like a flash of lightning, forgets 
the bit of paper while she is turning the gas lower, burns 
her fingers, throws the lighted paper on the floor, and 
puts her foot on it. The patient, watching all this, gets 
so nervous and frightened that he loses his night's rest. 
When the patient is sufiiciently well to sit up in bed to 
take his food, she will, of course, put the tray on his 
knees, then proceed to raise him into the sitting posture, 
and if the things are not upset all over the counterpane, 
it is certainly more by good luck than good management. 

Yet she is not a bad woman^ but certainly she is a 
had nurse. 

Then we have the fussy nurse. I know a most kind- 
hearted, loving creature, who is one of this sort. She 
wishes so much to benefit her patient that she sadly over- 
does it : she bustles in and out of the room every few min- 
utes, wearies her patient with constantly asking him if he 
cannot eat something, which she would willingly walk 
miles to get if wanted, raising him up, tucking the bed in, 
drawing up and lowering the blinds : one, in short, who 
never can be happy to sit down quietly and wait patiently, 
but must be constantly on the move ; and yet it is her very 



NimSES AND NUESING. 19 

goodness which makes her weary the patient, till he says 
to himself, the first chance he has of getting her out of the 
room, "'You're a good creature ; but if you would only be 
quiet, what a relief it would be !" 

Then we have the careless^ slovenly nurse. The doctor 
never feels sure that his patient has really had the proper 
quantity of medicine ; if she happened to remember it he 
would get it, but if not she would make up for it by giving 
him a double dose next time. There is never a clean glass 
or cup when wanted. Food is taken to him, and if he 
cannot eat it, it is left there for hours. There are so many 
crumbs in the bed that it feels to the poor rheumatic sufier- 
er like lying on a gravel walk. The fire is black, and the 
hearth covered with cinders. The slops, which ought to 
have been removed in the evening, are hid under the bed, 
filling the room with bad smells. Bits of meat, crumbs 
of potatoes, and other matters, are let fall on the floor and 
left there : the consequence is, that being winter, the mice, 
and perhaps rats, finding a warm room and something to 
eat, think it a very comfortable place, and use it accord- 
ingly, which proves anything but comforting to the help- 
less creature in bed, who has not power to raise his arms, 
nor sufiicient strength to awaken the nurse. 

Then we have the cruel nurse, who does her duty, but 
not from love : she carries out the doctor's orders exactly. 
Her law is like that of the Medes and Persians, which 
altereth not ; if the medicine has to be taken at a certain 
time, she brings it to the minute, and worries the patient 
into taking it on the instant. If she says the bedclothes 
must be changed, and the patient says it hurts him so 
much to be moved, she answers, " Can't help that, the doc- 
tor said it was to be done, and I can't go against his or- 
ders." She may be perfectly honest in all her dealings, 
but there is no tenderness, no compassion. 

And lastly, we have what I trust is a very rare char- 



20 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

acter, th dishonest nurse. She drinks most of the wine, 
and eats pretty freely of the food intended for t'le sick 
person, and tells the doctor the patient ought to get bet- 
ter according to the quantity of nourishment he gets 
through. But she is dishonest in another way : she finds 
it a great trouble to compel the patient to take the med- 
icine, so she just empties it away a regular dose at a 
time, so that whenever the doctor happens to call, his eye 
rests on the bottle, he sees it is gradually becoming empty, 
and feels satisfied. 

Now these are not characters I have heard of or read 
of, but every one of them has been with me in the sick 
room. The awkward nurse has been carrying a trayful of 
things, caught her foot in a bit of carpet, and made a 
smash. I have seen the careless nurse snatch a child out 
of bed with its skin wet with perspiration, and set it on a 
chair with no extra covering, and make the bed. I had 
once a little patient so ill as to require a blister on the 
chest. I put it on myself, and then left him in charge of 
one who turned out to be a careless 7iurse. When I called 
the next day, I found he had been so neglected, that in- 
stead of its being confined to the chest, he had worked it 
round to his back, where it was left hours longer than it 
should have been, causing such a sore that the poor little 
boy could not lie on his back for a week afterwards. I 
had an instance of a dishonest nurse, who broke the bot- 
tle containing the medicine, filled another with sugar-and- 
water, and put the label on it. Fortunately for her the 
child did not die, or her reflections would not have been 
at all pleasant. 

It is not absolutely necessary that a person wishing to 
help the doctor should be highly educated. She must, 
however, possess the qualification of "common sense." 
This sort of sense, however, is not by any means common. 
It is the knowledge of common and every-day affairs. 



NUESES AND NUKSING. 21 

The helper should be able to read writing and to write fit 
for reading, or slxe may be led by the appearance of drugs 
and vials to make dreadful mistakes. She ought also to 
have all her five senses in a healthy, active condition — 
sight, hearing, feeling, smell, taste. 

Sight, that she may be able to read directions, or read 
aloud to the patient, and watch the change of countenance, 
A quick-sighted nurse will not need to wait till the sufier- 
er has asked for anything in words. She will from the 
motion of an eye, or the lips, or a finger, see in a moment 
what is wanted. Hearing, that she may catch the faint- 
est whisper, and not oblige a weak patient to exert the 
voice, and to repeat every request. Reeling, that she may 
detect any change in the heat or dryness of the skin of the 
patient, and not use any application which will either scald 
with heat, or cause a chill with cold. Smell, that she may 
detect the least impurity in the atmosphere of the room, 
or in giving medicine notice if there be any mistake. Taste, 
that she may not offer food unfit to be used, or good in 
itself, but cooked in such a way as to be disgusting to the 
patient. 

Now if she possesses these qualities, she will very soon, 
with a little instruction, be able to "help the doctor." 
But there is one caution required here : she must not have 
such a very high opinion of her own skill, as to cause her 
to use it in opposition to the wishes of the doctor. She 
is at perfect liberty to suggest anything she likes. We 
have no objection to her saying, " Don't you think such a 
thing would do good ?" or, " Don't you think we might 
safely do without such a thing ? " But we do object to 
her asking the opinion of the doctor, and then acting in 
opposifiion to it. Because if he is fit to be trusted with 
the life of a fellow-creature, he ought to be trusted, and 
dealt with fairly. 



22 TILL THE DOCrOR COMES. 

THE MEDICINE CHEST. 

In cases of accident or sudden sickness, time is often 
of the utmost importance. A very simple remedy applied 
at the moment may often save a long illness. It is there- 
fore desirable to have ready at hand whatever is likely to 
be wanted in a hurry. Get a small box. Keep it always 
locked, and out of the way of the children. Use it for 
medicines and for nothing else. Let it stand where you 
can lay your hand upon it in a moment. Do not have too 
many things in it, or they will confuse you. Just put 
into it what you are most likely to want. 

A roll of old linen, of calico, and of flannel, the older 
the better, but clean and dry. A little lint and some stick- 
ing-plaster. The calico and flannel may be in strips, so as 
to serve for bandages. Fasten each roll with a pin. 

A pair of scissors, some pins, tape, and a few large 
needles ready threaded. 

Some castor oil, syrup of ipecac, paregoric, turpentine, 
senna leaves, Epsom salts, carbonate of soda, a small bot- 
tle of laudanum, marked poison, and a pint bottle of lin- 
Beed-oil and lime-water. 

I have not put simple ointment into this list, because it 
will not keep good, and a little clean lard will do as well. 
Nor have I named mustard, because it soon loses its 
strength, and turpentine will serve the same purpose, is 
very quickly and easily applied, and if well corked will 
keep good for a long while. 

Then we want a measuring-glass. Nearly all liquid 
medicine is given by " spoonfuls." Now a " spoon " is a 
yery uncertain measure, and difiers in size ; therefore 
better buy a glass marked correctly, teaspoons on the one 
side and tablespoons on the other. 

Lastly, a feeding-cup. In cases of broken thigh, and 
some other illnesses, the patient cannot be raised, and it ii 



THE MEDICINE CHEST. 23 

impossible to give liquids with any degree of comfort 
while lying down. I have myself known a case, lately, 
of a lady, who was in a very weak state, being raised, in 
opposition to the orders of the doctor, as the nurse said, 
"just for a minute, to give her a drink ;" but that minute 
did all the mischief, for her heart had not power to con- 
tinue its work in that position : it stopped, and she fell 
back dead. If you have not one of these cups, a small 
tea-pot, or anything with a narrow spout, will answer. 
If the poor sufferer, parched with fever, is crying out 
piteously, as they frequently do, " Oh, please give me a 
hig drinkj'' get a clean straw, bend one end of it gently 
into the glass, and the other into the mouth. This you 
can always get easily in the country, — but the best thing 
for the purpose is about a foot of small india-rubber tub- 
ing, such as is used for infants' feeding-bottles. It costs 
about eight cents, can be bent in any direction, is not 
easily broken, and will last for years. 

In some cases it is desirable to give only a small quan- 
tity of fluid at a time ; and not only with children, but 
adults, it is a painful, tantalizing thing to offer a drink, 
and insist upon the patient taking only a portion of it, or 
to make the quantity appear smaller by putting it into a 
large glass. This may be entirely avoided by having a 
cup or glass to hold just what may be taken. You will 
find by experience that a child who could not by any 
amount of argument be induced to leave part of what is 
in the glass, or be put off with a few spoonfuls in a large 
one, will be quite contented and happy if you let it have 
its own particular glass quite full, and with liberty to 
drink it all, though it perhaps does not contain as much 
as what appeared such a very small allowance in a larger 
vessel. 

The cost of the whole of our stock will be only a few 
shillings. Prices vary according to where you make 



24 TILL THE DOCTOR COlsrES. 

your purchases ; but do not confound low price and 
clieapness together. They are very different, especially 
in important things like medicines. If you insist upon 
paymg a very low price for an article, you drive the sel- 
ler to give you either what is kept till it has deteriorated, 
or what is adulterated. I will tell you an anecdote. I 
was writing a prescription in a chemist's shop, when a 
child came in with a small packet in her hand, and said, 
" Please, mister, mother says you've cheated her shame- 
ful T*dth this magnesia, she can get twice as much for a 
penny at the other druggist's." So he gave her double 
the quantity, and said to her, "Be sure to tell your 
mother that the other was stronger, and so I gave her 
less of it." When she was gone, he said to me, " Now 
here is difficult case. You doctors blame us for not sell- 
ing pure drugs. I gave her as much pure magnesia for 
her penny as I could afford; but she must have more 
bulk, so I am compelled to mix a quantity of chalk with 
it ; and now she goes away boasting that she has taught 
the druggist a lesson not to try to cheat people." The 
consequence of this system is, that if the patient takes 
only the dose the doctor ordered, the medicine has not 
the proper effect, and in case of serious illness the time 
for doing good may be gone by, and a life be lost in con- 
sequence. 

You must be very careful about the size of the dose, 
especially if you give it mthout a doctor's orders. Medi- 
cine given at random is as likely to kill as to cure. 

Almost all medicines may be divided into two classes, 
—one in which the dose seems to be stored up, to accu- 
mulate in the system, and where the quantity taken must 
be gradually decreased. In the other class, the body ap- 
pears to get used to the medicine, it loses its eflect, and 
the dose has to be gradually increased. Of this class is 
opium. If it be taken regularly for a length of time, 



BUEN8 AND SCALDS. 



the quantity which at first was sufficient to remove the 
pain has to be increased to such an extent, that if it were 
taken at the commencement before the apprenticeship 
were gone through, it would certainly produce death; 
or if the patient who has taken it for a length of time 
gives it up for a season and returns to a full dose, it will 
prove dangerous. A case which should be a warning to 
all who are in charge of the sick occurred lately. A 
gentleman who suffered from a very painful nervous dis- 
ease, had prescribed for him a medicine containing a prep- 
aration of opium. He was watched over by a kind and 
affectionate wife, who in every case carefully measured 
the dose and administered it herself. After taking it for 
some weeks in gradually increased quantities, the com- 
plamt left him, and he discontinued the medicine. Some 
time after this the pain returned suddenly in the night; 
his wife measured out and gave him the same quantity at 
which he left off He soon fell into a deep sleep, from 
which he never awakened. Now the lesson which this 
ought to teach is this : when you have to give for a 
length of time a medicine containing any preparation of 
opium, or any other soothing drug, which is intended to 
reheve pain and procure sleep, give it up for a season and 
return to it, do not begin again with the quantity at 
which you left off, but with the dose you gave at the 
commencement of the illness. 

BURNS AND SCALDS. 

These are constantly occurring, not only in poor families 
but m every class of society. The number of children who 
die from these causes is dreadful; but when we consider 
the love of playing with fire common to children, the absurd 
and dangerous fashion of having the dress swelled out 
With crinoline when cooking or doing anything near a 



26 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

iire, the careless manner in which lucifer matches are car- 
ried loose in pockets and dropped on to floors, or the way 
in which hot liquids are placed in the way of C/hildren, the 
wonder is that they do not happen more frequently. 

Putting (mt the Fire. — ^Take this case, a description of 
what is unfortunately happening every day : — A woman's 
clothes take fire ; she is wrapped in flames ; her arms and 
hands, her neck and face, are scorched with the heat ; her 
hair is in a blaze ; the smoke is sufibcating her. She be- 
comes utterly confused, and rushes to and fro, so creating 
a current of air which increases the fire. The best thing 
she could have done would have been instantly to roll up- 
on the floor. But how few would have presence of mind 
to do this ! The more need for a friend to do it for her. 
Seize her by the hand, or by some part of the dress which is 
<:»t burning, and throw her on the ground. Slip off a coat 
or shawl, a bit of carpet, anything you can snatch up 
quickly, hold this before you, clasp her tightly with it, 
which will protect your hands. As quickly as possible 
fetch plenty of water ; make everything thoroughly wet, 
for though the flame is out, there is still the hot cinder 
and the half-burnt clothing eating into the flesh ; carry her 
carefully into a warm room, lay her on a table or on a 
carpet on the floor — not the bed — give her some warm stim- 
ulating drink, send for the doctor, and proceed to th« 
next operation — 

Removing the clothes. — Perhaps in the whole course of 
accidents there is not one which requires so much care 
and gentleness as this. We want only three people in the 
room — one on each side of the patient, and one to wait 
upon them. Oh, for a good pair of scissors or a really 
^harp knifo ! What misery you will inflict upon the suffer- 
er by sawing through strings, etc., with a rough-edged 
blunt knife. There must be no dragging or p uUing off; 
do not let the hope of saving anything influence you. Let 



BDENS AND SCALDS. Z< 

everything be so completely cut loose that it will fall off; 
but if any part stick to the body, let it remain, and be 
careful not to burst any blisters. 

Treatment. — The treatment of burns or scalds in the 
fir&t stage consists of wet, warm, but not sour applications, 
and excluding the air. 

Now our medicine-chest comes into use. Get out the 
old linen or calico ; wet a piece of this well with the lin- 
seed-oil and lime-water, and as soon as an injured part is 
exposed, put this on ; cover it with another dry rag or 
flannel, and secure it with a bandage. If you have not 
the mixture of oil and lime-water, get a pint of hot water 
and milk (equal parts), with a small teaspoonful of car- 
bonate of soda in it. If you have no milk at hand, use 
warm water with plenty of common soap in it ; or if you 
have no soap, use plain warm water with the carbonate 
of soda, or a little morsel of common washing soda, not 
more than the size of a small hazel-nut, to a pint of water, 
dissolved in it ; but whatever you use, keep the parts 
thoroughly wet and well covered. If you have a water- 
proof sheet or coat, or a piece of oilcloth, lay this over 
the mattress, and then a blanket over it. As soon as 
you have removed all the clothing, and applied the dress- 
ings, lift her gently into bed, and cover her as warmly as 
possible. In after-dressings large surfaces must not be 
exposed to the air ; either leave a thin covering and wet 
it with the lotion, or if you are using an ointment, re- 
move only a small portion of the dressing at a time, have 
everything in readiness, and cover again as quickly as 
possible. 

If there be much pain and fretfulness, you may safely 
give to an adult thirty drops of laudanum in a little water, 
and repeat this in an hour, and even a third time if need- 
ful. To a child ten years of age give in like manner only 
three drops, but beware of giving any to an infant. 



28 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

You must not attempt to manage this case further by 
yourselves. You have now done your best for her till the 
doctor comes. 

Wlien you read an account of one of these dreadful ac- 
cidents in the papers which has ended fatally, you will al- 
most invariably find they conclude with something of this 
kind — " After enduring great agony for some hours, death, 
relieved her from her sufferings." Now, it may be a great 
consolation to sorrowing friends to know positively, that 
in nearly every case this is a mere newspaper phrase, and 
is not true. Those of us who are accustomed to see these 
accidents know well that when the surface injured is suffi- 
ciently large to cause death, there is not much suffering, 
the person seems to die from the shock. Friends are con- 
stantly deceived by this, and suppose that because there 
is not much pain, and the patient appears calm and com- 
fortable, there cannot be much danger, whereas it is really 
the absence of pain, or more truly the want of power to 
feel pain, which constitutes the danger. Especially is this 
the case with a child. If the burn be large, particularly 
on the chest, and the little one remains perfectly quiet, 
utters no complaint, sighs deeply, and asks frequently for 
cold water, it is almost certain that life is fast drawing 
to a close. 

For smaller burns use the same remedies till the in- 
flammation has subsided, or as people say, till the fire is 
out / then spread some simple ointment on the v:>oolly side 
of Tint, and dress the sores with it. They will generally 
get well without much trouble. You can make a capital 
ointment yourselves of common whiting (which you use 
for polishing tins) and lard without any salt. If the burn 
be small, and the person can stay indoors, try the follow- 
ing recipe : — Take chalk (whiting) and linseed or common 
olive oil, and mix them to the consistency of honey, then 
add vinegar so as to reduce it to the thickness of thin syrup j 



BURNS AND SCAI.DS. 29 

apply with a soft brash or feather, and renew the appli- 
cation from time to time. Each renewal brings fresh re- 
lief and a most grateful coolness. But if the patient is 
compelled to go about, you can use the ointment at once, 
or dust the part thickly over with flour, kept on with rag 
and bandage ; but I am greatly in favor of wet applica- 
tions, as they do not stick to the raw surface, which is 
jQOst painfully sensitive. Unless the burn or scald be 
very small you will almost always find warm dressings 
much more grateful to the patient than cold. 

If a person fall into lime, use vinegar and water in- 
stead of, or rather before, the other dressings ; and if any 
get into the eye, wash it well with weak vinegar and 
water. But if oil of vitriol, or any other strong acid^ has 
caused the burn, apply quickly lime-water,* chalk or 
whiting and water, carbonate of soda, or some of your 
common washing soda and water, or even old mortar 
and water. 

If a burn be near a joint or on the face, even if small, 
let a doctor see it, and do not be in any hurry about hav- 
ing the wound healed. Remember that with all the care 
and skill which can be used, contractions will sometimes 
take place. The danger to life from a burn or scald is not 
in proportion to its severity, but to its extent — that is, a 
small part, such as a hand, or a foot, or a face may be 
burned so deeply as to cripple it for life, and yet not much 
endanger the general health, but a slight amount of burn- 
ing, a mere scorching over two-thirds of the body, may 
prove fatal. 

* To jnake lime-water, put a piece of unslacked rdme the size of 
a very large walnut into a common-sized wine-bottle full of told 
water, shake it up a few times, then let it settle. You need not 
fear making it too strong ; the water will take up only a certain 
quantity of the lime, however much you pui into it. 



OU TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

WOUNDS. 

These are of A^arious kinds, and are generally danger* 
ous from their position more than from their size, and re- 
quire treatment suitable for each case. 

In all cuts, before you begin to dress them, notice tho 
kind of bleeding. If the blood be dark-colored and flow 
regularly, you will be able to manage ; but if it be bright 
scarlet, and spurts out in jets, however small the wound 
may be, send at once for the doctor. Do not forget this ; 
it is very important. 

If the cut be made with a clean knife or some such 
weapon, and the person be in good health, it will gener- 
ally do well. Unless the bleeding be very profuse, do 
not be in a hurry to stop it. Wash the part well with 
cold water, dry the skin, bring the edges of the wound 
together, and keep them there with strips of sticking- 
plaster ; lay a little dry lint on the cut, and secure it with 
a bandage. Perhaps in a few hours you will find it a 
little swelled and painful, from being too tight; if so, 
remove the bandage, and with a pair of scissors cut 
through the plaster, not near the wound, — that will re- 
lieve it. If it be comfortable after this, you may leave it 
three or four days ; but if there be great pain and red- 
ness, soak well with warm water, remove all the dresj*- 
ings, ajid let the doctor take charge of it. 

Cuts on the Head cannot be dressed with plaster, 
unless you shave a large space, and in small injuries this 
is not needful. Cut the hair very close just round the 
wound ; after washing with cold water, apply a fold or 
fewo of wet lint, and leave it there. If, however, it be- 
comes painful, and there be headache and the face flushed, 
hand it over to the care of the doctor. 

Wounds from Splinters, Xails, etc. — Stabs oi 
wounds from splinters of wood or nails, broken glass, oi 



WOUNDS. 31 

from wadding or shot from a gun, should not be closed, 
but rather kept open with a poultice or water dressings, 
so that anything in the wound may be thrown out. 
When it is quite clean dress it as a common cut. When 
there is any splinter or glass, and it can be removed easily, 
of course do so ; but much poking in the wound will do 
harm. Take it to a doctor, and let him tell you whether 
it is better to cut it out or leave it to nature. 

Wounds on the Shin, where there is scarcely any 
flesh covering the bone, are often very troublesome to 
aged people. As soon as possible wet a few folds of linen 
with spirit — any sort of spirit will do — lay this on the 
wound, and keep it wet for three or four hours ; don't be 
afraid of the smarting, it will soon pass off. Then dress it 
with simple ointment spread on lint. If the person can 
spare the time to sit with the leg up, it will heal in a 
much shorter time than if employed in walking or stand- 
ing. 

Wounds caused by a Blow, or by a person falling 
on to cinder or gravel, must be treated in the same way 
as a splinter, that is, by poultice or warm water till quite 
clean ; but if the person is compelled to go out, you will 
find nothing so useful as the basilicon ointment spread on 
lint ; this will keep soft and moist the whole day. 

If any of the little ones run a fish-hook into a finger, do 
not attempt to draw it out backward. Cut the line quite 
clear from it, turn the point upwards and push it through. 
Accidents with crochet-needles are constantly occurring, 
and if one be pushed deeply into the flesh you had bet- 
ter not try to pull it out : the hook at the point will tear 
and inflame the part. A surgeon with proper instruments 
will take it out safely without any difiiculty. If you 
should be at a great distance from a surgeon, the best 
thing you can do is, — first be quite sure which side the 
hook is, then push a smooth ivory knitting-needle, or 



32 TILL THE DOCTOK CCMES. 

something of that sort down the wound till it touches the 
hook, then pull out both together. 

BLEEDING, AND HOW TO STOP IT. 

It is well to bear in mind that cuts about the head and 
face, especially the nose, bleed profusely. Many a mother 
has had a terrible fright by a child running in with its 
clothes, hands, and face all smeared with blood. It is as- 
tonishing what a mess a child will manage to make with 
a spoonful or two of blood. Try to keep cool and collect- 
ed. You will find, most probably, when you have washed 
with cold water, that the amount of injury is a mere tri- 
fle. If it is difficult to stop the bleeding, a most invalua- 
ble remedy, and one you will find in almost every house, 
is the common whiting or pipe-clay. Put a thick cover- 
ing of either of these on the wound, then a bit of dry lint, 
and press it closely for a few minutes ; let what sticks to 
the wound remain there, and cover with a bit of plaster. 
A troublesome leech-bite can be stopped in the same way, 
without giving the child any pain. 

Bleeding from the Nose, unless it goes too far, need 
not alarm you ; nay, in many cases may prevent something 
much more serious ; but when it requires to be stopped, 
let the person sit upright, bathe the neck and face with 
cold water, and if you can get a little alum, dissolve that 
in water, and squirt it up the nostrils, if this does not suc- 
r-cod, send for the doctor. I would not advise you to plug 
the nostrils, for unless it be done properly you may think 
jhc bleeding has ceased, whereas it is only finding its 
way to the top of the throat, and being swallowed. 

Bleeding from a Wound in an Arm or Leg, if severe, 
must be stopped by pressure. Make a pad of rag a good 
thickness, place this on the part, and bind a handkerchief 
or anything of that sort tightly round the limb. If that 



BLEEDING, AND HOW TO STOP IT. »^3 

be not sufficient, slacken it a little, push a strong stick or 
. a large fork under it, and twist it round ; by this means 
you can get any amount of pressure. If the wound be in 
the wrist or arm, let it be held up over the head, or if in 
the leg let the person lie down, and support the foot on a 
chair. If you be by yourself in the fields, and get a se- 
vere cut with a scythe, or in any sudden emergency, such 
as a railway accident, use the remedy which has saved 
many a life on the field of battle, — take a handful of dry 
earth, put this on to the wound, and grasp it tightly, till 
you can have some assistance. 

One of the most difficult situations in which to man- 
age a wound is about the wrist 'or thick part of the thumb, 
particularly if it be deep. If this accident should occur 
when near a surgeon let him attend to it directly, but if not, 
lose no time in dressing it yourself. Two people are re- 
quired to do this properly. If you turn your hand with 
the palm upwards, and lay your finger on the wrist a lit- 
tle to the outer side, in a line with the thumb, you will 
feel the pulse beating ; now let one person stand along- 
side the patient (not opposite to him) take hold of his arm 
with both hands, place one of his thumbs on this spot, but 
a little higher up the arm than the cut, and the other on 
the little finger side, and press firmly. While one is by 
this plan arresting the bleeding, let the other bring the 
edges of the wound together, place over it a thick layer 
of whiting or pipe-clay, or a large table-spoonful of flour, 
or if away from home common clay, than a pad of lint or 
rag of any description, and secure this in its place with a 
bandage or handkerchief, so put on as to press firmly on 
the spot. The thumbs may now be removed, but the hand 
must not be allowed to hang down. If the blood should 
continue to force its way through, you must, in addition 
to these dressings, lay a small pad on the artery where 
you felt the pulse, and keep it in its place with a bandage, 
2* 



34 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

or what is very much better, a strong elastic band. If 
these means are not sufficient, you must obtain the assist- 
ance of a surgeon at once. 

It is very desirable that every one, even young people, 
should understand that in all cases of severe bleeding, be 
the wound ever so small, the only thing which can be safe- 
ly depended upon is pressure. Three youths lately were 
walking through some fields, when one of them, who had 
an open knife in his hand, fell, and the blade was forced 
into his thigh. His companions, terrified at the sight of the 
blood, ran off to procure assistance, while the unfortunate 
sufierer did his best by holding his pocket-handkerchief to 
the wound. Long before they could return his chance of 
life was gone. Here was a fine healthy young man cut ofi^ 
suddenly, who might have been saved by the most simple 
contrivance. Even situated as they were in the open fields, 
a cork, a stone, a potatoe cut in half, a handful of earth, a 
bit of rag, or a bunch of grass rolled up into a ball, and 
put into a handkerchief or necktie, or a stocking, and 
tied very tightly round the limb so as to press upon the 
wound, would have arrested the bleeding, or at any 
rate have lessened it, till it could have been properly 
secured. 

This, then, is a good rule, and may serve as a general 
one. In case of severe bleeding, press your finger on or 
into the bleeding place and keep it there till you can have 
assistance. 

Bleeding into the Stomach, or Vomiting Blood.— 
It is a frightful sight to see a person vomit a quantity of 
blood, one which tries the nerves severely, but is not al- 
ways so dangerous as it appears. The blood is of a dark 
color, and frequently mixed with some portion of food. 
Give two teaspoonsfuls of vinegar or lemon juice, and one 
teaspoonful of Epsom salts in a wine^lassful of cold water, 
and repeat this every half-hour till the bleeding stops or 



BLEEDING, AND HOW TO STOP IT. 35 

the doctor comes. Give nothing more, excepting very 
small quantities of cold water, or little bits of cracked ice. 

Bleeding from the Lungs, or Spitting of Blood, is 
always a very serious affliction, a warning which must not 
be trifled with. You will know that it does not come from 
the stomach, by being coughed up rather than vomited, 
it being frothy, a bright scarlet color, and most probably 
much smaller in quantity. Give one teaspoonful of vine- 
gar and one of paregoric in a little cold water, and repeat 
this in half an hour. Sponge the chest with cold vinegar 
and water, and keep the shoulders raised by pillows. Do 
not allow the person to talk or use any exertion. 

Bleeding from Slight Causes. — Some persons have 
such a tendency to bleed, that even the smallest cut or 
scratch endangers life, particularly having a tooth extract- 
ed. I have seen persons brought very near death from 
this cause. Such people should always mention this to a 
dentist when they have a tooth drawn, so that he may 
be prepared. If you meet with a case of this sort, get a 
little whiting, or pipe-clay, or powdered chalk, roll this 
up in a bit of lint, like a cork, dip this in spirits of turpen- 
tine, and press it firmly into the hole left by the tooth. 
If it does not stop the bleeding in fifteen minutes, change 
this plug for a fresh one, and press that in steadily. Do 
not remove this for at least twelve hours, and even then 
do not pull it out, but wash the mouth with cold water 
till it is loose. 

Enlargement of the Yeins, or as doctors name it va- 
ricose veins, is very frequent in the lower limbs of per- 
sons V/'ho have to stand many hours in the day, such as 
Laundresses. Sometimes they become so large, and the 
coverings so thin, that they burst, and though the bleed- 
ing may not perhaps endanger life, it causes great debili- 
ty. There are two things which people afflicted in this 
V7ay should attend to. In the first place, whenever it is 



36 TILL THE DOCTOK COMES. 

possible, even for a few minutes, let the limbs be horizon- 
tal, either by lying down, or by having them raised ; and 
secondly, to give support by bandages of flannel, preferably, 
put on smoothly and evenly in the morning before the legs 
have time to swell. This should be done if possible by 
another person, for the leg is altered in shape by being 
bent. But the best plan of giving support is by elastic 
stockings, which can be purchased of the exact size re- 
quired. They can be drawn on over a well-fitting cotton 
stocking, without any trouble, give equal and gentle sup- 
port to every part of the limb, and if good will last a long 
while. 

BROKEN BONES. 

These accidents often happen where surgical help can- 
not be got at once, perhaps not at all. A broken bone is 
easily detected by the person not being able to raise the 
limb, by its bending where it ought not, and by the pain. 
Let us commence at the top of the body and go regu- 
larly downwards. 

Head. — Any accident sufficiently severe to break the 
bones of the head or face, or to cause the person to remain 
insensible, needs immediate medical attendance. Let the 
head be raised, apply cold water, particularly if there be 
bleeding, and keep down all noise and excitement. 

The Collae-bone runs from the top of the breast-bone 
to the shoulder. This is generally broken near the mid- 
dle. On the sound side the bone is smooth and even ; on 
the injured side you will observe the lump caused by the 
broken ends rising one over the other; and if the shoulder 
be brought forward, you will see the parts move, and the 
person will suffer pain. There is the same diiference in 
the way in which bones break as there is in a branch of a 
growing tree and an old one. In a child the bone will 
bend to some extent, and then not break right through 



BROKEN BONES. 31 

but in an aged person it snaps off with a clean fracture, 
like a dry stick. It is of consequence to remember this ; 
for in a child you will not perceive the ends of a bone 
move as they do in an adult. 

Get a round pad the thickness of a man's arm and five 
inclies long Pusli the shoulder backwards, and press wi th 
the other hand on the fracture till you get it in its place ; 
put the pad into the arm-pit, and secure the arm with a 
bandage around the body; raise the fore-arm well up 
in a sling. Take the patient to a surgeon, and ask him 
to show you how to fix it ; for you will have to watch 
over it for a month, and it must not be allowed to slip 
out of its place. 

Ribs Broken, without a Wound. — Symptoms. — Pain 
on taking a deep breath, or on pressure where the injury 
has taken place. If you press suddenly on the ends of the 
ribs near the back-bone you will give pain, not where you 
press, but where the bone is broken. 

If there be spitting of blood, keep the patient quiet, 
and give no stimulants. If there be a bruise, apply hot 
fomentations, or a large hot poultice ; then a bandage of 
flannel six inches wide round the chest (of course over 
the injured part) ; draw this tight, and sew it on with 
large stitches, not placed opposite each other, but more 
like what is called the " herring-bone stitch ;" tighten it 
from day to day as required. If the accident happen 
away from the house, tie a handkerchief firmly over the 
clothes till you reach home. 

Ribs Broken, w^ith a Wound.— If it be merely a 
scratch, after your fomentation use a bit of lint and plaster, 
and yoT^r bandage as before ; but if the wound be at all 
deep, even if you do not think it has gone through into 
the chest, put on some folds of wet rag and a bandage. 
Let the person lie 0)i the bad side, and keep him as quiet 
as you can till the doctor comes. Do not forget this rule. 



38 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

In all cases of a wound to the chest the person must lie or 
the wounded side. 

Aem, above the Elbow. — There is only one bone here. 
We want four splints, with a soft pad to each, to reach 
from the shoulder to the bend of the arm. Place one be- 
hind, one before, and one on each side, and secure them 
with a bandage. Use the sound arm as a model to shape 
your splints by. Carry the arm in a sling. 

Elbow Joint. — The bone which projects at the back of 
the elbow is broken by a fall or blow. The person cannot 
use the arm. Compare the two arms together, and you 
will find the point of the elbow is gone and is drawn up 
into the back of the upper arm. 

Keep the arm quite straight and place a long splint on 
the inside, well padded. 

Arm, below the Elbow. — Here you have two bones, 
and one or both may be broken. If you try to raise the 
arm by taking hold of the wrist you will easily detect it. 

Hold the arm bent, with the thumb uppermost — as if 
the person were going to lay it flat against his chest; 
place one splint along the palm of the hand to the bend 
of the arm, the other along the back of the hand to a little 
beyond the elbow ; apply a wet bandage loosely to keep 
them steady, and carry the arm in a sling. After all frac- 
tures there is swelling. Always allow for this in band- 
aging the first two or three days. 

Hand, Foot, or Ankle. — These bones are solid, and 
are almost always wounded by such an accident as breaks 
or crushes the bone — such as by machinery, threshing- 
machines, etc., — and are alwaysserious. 

Cover the whole hand in several folds of rag, or hand- 
kerchiefs, dipped in cold water. If you cannot find water, 
wrap it up in a good handful of damp grass. If there be 
much bleeding, dip it into cold water if you find any on 
the way. Hold the hand on the top of your head. 



BROKEN BONES. 3% 

Hip Joint. The bone here is liable to be broken in 
aged people from very slight causes. Very frequently 
the person feels something crack in the hip, and cannot 
stand or rise from the ground. If placed upright, you will 
find the injured limb shorter than the other and the foot 
turned outwards. Remove the clothes carefully and keep 
in bed till the doctor comes. 

Thigh. — The fracture is ascertained by the person 
not being able to raise the leg, and by pain when he at- 
tempts to do so. The greatest trouble you will have in 
this case is from the violent spasms of the muscles, which 
draw the broken bone out of its place, and case great suf- 
fering. 

If in the fields, or away from home, get some stiff straw, 
reeds, bits of very thin board, or, if anyone has a rather 
stiff hat, knock the crown out, split up the body, and bind 
this rather tightly with suspenders, handkerchiefs, etc., 
round the injured limb. On reaching home, if the spasms 
be severe, put a strong bandage round the ankle, cross it 
over the instep, and bring the ends together under the 
foot, and to this sling a brick, or any convenient article 
about eight pounds weight. Let this hang over the foot 
of the bed, so as to draw down the leg. This will give 
great relief. 

Cap of the Knee. — This fracture is commonly caused 
by falling on the knee, or in trying to avoid falling. 
As soon as it happens, the person has lost all power of 
standing on that leg ; and if placed upright, drops down 
instantly. The bone is split across, and has left a gap, 
just as we found at the elbow when that bone was bro- 
ken. 

Keep the leg quite straight placing the splint of course 
along the back of the limb, and treat it exactly as we de- 
scribed at the elbow, and when the patient is obliged to 
move, pass a strong bandage round the neck and under 



40 TILL TUE DOCTOK COMES. 

the foot, and draw it so tight that it will entirely support 
the weight of the leg. 

Leg below the Knee. — Here we have two bones, as 
in the fore-arm. If the small one be broken, you may 
have great difficulty in finding it, and it is of no conse- 
quence to do so, for the large one mil act as a splint ; but 
if the larger one be broken, it is so little covered with 
flesh that you cannot fail to know it. 

Get a broom handle, cut it into two pieces, which will 
reach from the knee to a little past the foot ; take a pil- 
low-slip, or piece of calico about the same size, roll each 
end round a piece of the brush-handle, and sew it on ; lay 
a soft pillow lengthways in this, place the leg comfortably 
upon the pillow, bring up the sticks (rolling the calico 
round them) till it allows them to come just half-way up 
the knee-joint and half-way up the foot; pass two or 
three pieces of tape under, bring up the sides of the pil- 
low against the leg, and tie them ; keep the foot point- 
ing directly upwards. 

General Remarks. — The object you have in view is 
not to cure broken bones, but to put the broken ends in 
their proper places, and keep them there. Nature will 
do the rest. 

In fractures of the lower limbs, occurring at a distance 
from home, the jolting of a carriage should be avoided, 
and the person carried. A door, a broad plank or shut- 
ter, a large sack cut open, a sheet or blanket or piece ol 
tarpaulin, fastened at the four corners to two strong hay 
forks, makes a capital hammock, carried by four men. 

In any case of injury to the arm or hand, you need a 
splint. Any man can make one in a few minutes out of a 
piece of thin board or stiff cardboard, a cigar box, or an 
old bandbox cut into slips the breadth of your hand, or a 
little wider ; or if you are in the country you can make an 
excellent, strong, light splint with six or eight willow twigs 



dislocations; ok limbs out of joint. 4:1 

(sucli as are used for making baskets) tied together in and 
out with tape; but whatever you use, let it be long 
enough to reach from a little beyond the elbow to a little 
beyond the ends of the fingers. Cover this with a pad ol 
soft hay, hair, or anything soft, and then not only the 
arm, but the hand, will rest comfortably. You can now 
use anything you like to suspend it round the neck, only 
bearing in mind that the hand must not hang lower than 
the elbow. 



DISLOCATIONS; 

OR LIMBS OUT OF JOINT. 

Never attempt to do anything unless you are quite sure 
it is a case of being " out of joint." It would be a dread- 
ful mistake to pull about a fracture instead. Excepting the 
one case which I now give you, it will be far better to 
wait till a surgeon makes a proper examination. 

Broken Neck, or Neck out of joint. — This is caused 
by a heavy fall on the side of the head. The head is 
turned to one side and fixed. In this case you must act 
at once. 

Lay the person on his back, plant one knee against 
each shoulder, grasp the head firmly, pull gently, and at 
the same time turn the head into its proper place. 

Jaw. — This is sometimes thrown out of joint 
opening the mouth too wide, as in gaping ; 
you cannot possibly mistake it. The 
mouth is fixed wide open, and of course 
the person cannot speak. 

Place a bit of strong stick — a thin walk- 
ing-stick will do very well — across the 
mouth, exactly like a horse's bit. Push it far back, then 
press downwards and backwards till you feel the jaw slip 




4:2 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

into its place, or you may push it into its place with your 
thumbs protected with a towel. 

Shoulder. — The arm cannot be raised. You will see 
the depression on the top of the shoulder, where the 
bone ought to be, and will most likely feel it in the 
armpit. 

Lay the person flat on his back, and sit down beside 
him on the injured side. Pull off your boot, place your 
heel in the armpit, take hold of the arm, either simply 
with your hands or with a long towel fastened to it, and 
passed round your neck, and pull steadily. After you 
have done this some time, tell the person to turn round j 




while He is trying to do this, give a sudden strong pull, 
jerk your heel against the head of the bone in the arm- 
pit, and you will hear it return to its place with a snap. 

It will be best for you, however, not to try to do this ex- 
cept in an extreme emergency, or in the case of a person 
to whom the same accident has happened before, for you 
might do great harm if it were a fracture and not a dis- 
location. 

Thumb. — You cannot possibly mistake this ; but, small 
as the joint is, you wiii find it exceedingly difficult to 
master. Take it to a surgeon, if possible. But if you 
should be a long way from assistance, try the following : 



SPRAINS. 4:8 

Let one strong man hold the wrist, or, if you are by 
yourself, let the person lie on the floor. Powder a littla 
chalk or resin on the hand to prevent slipping. Pull 
steadily at the thumb for some time, then turn the thumb 
backwards, and at the same time with the other hand 
oush it into its place. 




Fingers may be managed in the same way. 

Hip. — The leg is shortened, and the foot turned in^ 
wards ; but unless you feel sure it is out^ do not attempt 
to do anything. In case of need, act in the same way as 
you would do in the case of the shoulder, only placing 
your foot between the legs, protecting the parts with the 
folds of a towel. 

Weist, Knee, or Ankle. — These are always such 
severe accidents that they should be at once placed under 
the care of a surgeon ; but if you cannot obtain advice, 
the principle of action is the same in all cases. By 
stretching the muscles by pulling, till they become so re- 
laxed, that they will allow vou to push the joint back 
again into its place. 

SPRAINS. 

A sprain is a very painful and very serious thing. 
When you consider that from the tips of the fingers 
to the wrist, or from the ends of the toes to the leg, there 
are not less than thirty separate bones, all tied together 
with straps, cords, and elastic bands, and about twenty 
hinges, all to be kept in good working order, you wil] 



44 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

not wonder at sprains being frequent and sometimes sen 
ous. You will have little difficulty in knowing a sprain. 

But there is the danger of bones being broken or dis- 
placed, as well as the mere sprain. Therefore, as soon as 
possible, before swelling takes place, see if the joint looks 
natural ; compare it with the other one, and notice if any 
bone be loose or pushed out of its place. If so, go to a 
surgeon at once. If it is only a sprain, wrap up the part 
in several folds of flannel, dipped in water as hot as it 
can be borne with comfort, and cover it with a dry band- 
age : if possible, with a piece of oiled silk or sheet gutta 
percha. If it be very painful, wet a piece of rag with 
laudanum, place this next the skin, then cover with the 
wet flannel. 

All sorts of poultices are used in the country for 
sprains. So long as they are wet, soft, and warm, they 
do good ; but there is nothing so cleanly, so easily ap- 
plied and soothing, as the laudanum and hot water. 

The part must be kept quiet, not only while painful, 
but even after the pain has gone ; for if you exercise the 
joint too soon, you may do great mischief. Keep the 
warm applications on constantly till all pain and inflam- 
mation are gone, then, twice a-day, hold the joint under 
a tap or stream of cold water for a few minutes, till it 
begins to feel painful ; then bind it up with a common 
bandage, and bring it back to its work very gradually. 
A great deal of pain and swelling can be avoided by keep- 
ing the limb in a proper position. Whether wrist or 
ankle, it must not hang down. If it be the wrist, let it 
be comfortably supported in a sling ; if the ankle, let the 
person lie or sit with the foot raised as high as is com- 
fortable. 

The Tendon at the back of the Heel is sometimes 
broken by jumping, carrying too heavy weight up steps, 
etc., or may be cut by a scythe, and the person is " hough 



POISONS AND POISONING. 45 

ed." If the accident happen away from home, and you 
have no conveyance, bend the knee, and secure it with a 
strap or cord, passed under the ins^/Cp and around the 
reck. Then with a pair of crutches, which you can make 
with two hay-rakes or hay-forks cut to the proper length, 
tlie patient can walk. A very good support can be made 
by a dog-collar buckled round the leg above the knee and 
attached by a cord to a loop in the heel of a slipper. The 
leg must not be put down with the sole of the foot on 
the ground for two weeks, and when walking is first 
practised, let it be on a level, but do not try to walk up- 
stairs for a month. There is no occasion to confine a per- 
son to the house with this accident. Get a pair of crutches 
at once, secure the leg, and let him enjoy the fresh air. 



POISONS AND POISONING. 

So many substances of a poisonous nature being used 
in manufactures amongst farmers, and also in private 
houses, it will be useful to have a guide to refer to in case 
of accident ; for in almost every case of poisoning the rem- 
edy must be given immediately, or we cannot expect to 
succeed. I give here the names in common use, and un- 
der one head I include various articles made from the 
same substance. For instance, to the word mercury, you 
will find calomel, corrosive sublimate, white precipitate, 
vermilion, which are all mercury, but in different forms. 

As a general rule, in all cases of poisoning, especially 
if seen immediately after the poison has been swallowed, 
the person should be made to vomit. To accomplish this 
give a teaspoonful of mustard in a tumbler of warm \^'ater 
— or two or three teaspoonfuls of powdered alum in the 
same way. 

Arsenic : Scheele's green, ague drops, rat poison, 
etc. — Symptoms : Pain and burning heat of stomach, dry 



46 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

ness of throat, cramps, purging, vomiting. — Treatment: 
Give large quantities of milk and raw eggs, lime-water oi 
flour-and-water. Then castor oil. 

Antimony : Butter of antimony, tartar emetic, etc. — 
ik/mptoms : Severe vomiting, cramps, faintness, purging. 
— Treatment: Plenty of strong tea. If you have no com- 
mon tea at hand, use an infusion of oak, elm, sloe, currant, 
or blackberry bark or leaves. Or for butter of antimony, 
use the treatment given below for Acids. Support the 
strength. 

Acids : Oxalic, sulphuric (oil of vitriol), nitric (aqua- 
fortis), muriatic (spirit of salt), but not prussic acid. — 
Symptoms: Horribly burning, sour pain from the mouth 
downwards. The skin of the lips, mouth, and throat, is 
dissolved. Purging of blood, great thirst. — Treatment: 
Put an ounce of calcined magnesia into a pint of water, 
and give a wineglassful every two or three minutes. If 
the magnesia is not ready, use whiting, chalk, soda, or 
lime-water, or knock a piece of plaster off the wall, pound 
it small, and give it in milk or water. While one person 
attends to this, let another cut some common soap into 
small bits, and give a teaspoonful with water, or a ta- 
blespoonful of soft soap. Give plenty of warm water to 
drink. 

Bad Fish : Mussels, etc. — Symptoms : Pain in stom- 
ach, headache, flushed face, feeling of choking, perhaps 
scarlet eruption of skin. — Treatment: Empty the stom- 
ach by an emetic (as in poisoning by laudanum), then give 
a full dose of castor oil with some warm spice. A mus- 
tard plaster to the pit of stomach if needful. 

Bite of Snake, or of any animal supposed to be mad, 
— Treatment : Tie a string tightly above the wound, wash 
the bite well, let the person bitten suck the wound if he 
can. If you can get lunar caustic (nitrate of silver), rub 
it well in, to the very bottom of the wound, or take a very 



POISONS AND POISONING. 47 

small poker, or, much better, a steel used for sharpening 
knives ; make the point of this quite red-hot — to a white 
heat if you can — and press this for a moment into the 
wound. This is not such a dreadful operation as it seems 
to be ; if the steel, or whatever article you use, is really 
hot enough, one moment's application is sufficient, and 
gives scarcely any pain at the time. 

In case of a rattlesnake bite the person must be given 
freely whiskey or other alcoholic stimulant ; also spirits of 
ammonia, if it can be had. 

I wish here to draw attention to a most absurd, ridic- 
ulous superstition which exists ; that is, if a person be bit- 
ten by a dog which is in perfect health, but afterwards 
goes mad, the person also will be affected ; so they insist 
upon the dog being destroyed, for fear it should go mad 
at any future period. Instead of this, the dog should be 
carefully taken care of; patients would then have the sat- 
isfaction of knowing that there was nothing wrong with it, 
and their minds would be at rest. 

Chloride of Tin : called Muriate by dyers. Symp- 
toms: Vomiting, pain in stomach, purging, convulsive 
twitchings. — Treatment: Give large quantities of milk 
with magnesia, chalk, or whiting in it ; also raw eggs beat- 
en up with water or milk. 

Chloride or Zinc : Burnett's disinfecting fluid, white 
vitriol. — Sym.ptom.s : Same as chloride of tin. — Treatm,ent: 
Plenty of milk, with white of eggs in it. 

Copper : Blue copperas, blue verditer, mineral green, 
verdigris, food or confectionery cooked in foul copper ves- 
sels, pickles made green by copper. — Symptoms: Cop- 
pery taste in mouth, tongue dry and parched, very pain* 
fill colic, bloody motions. Treatment : Large (juantities 
of milk and white of eggs, afterwards strong tea. Don't 
give vinegar. 

Corrosive Sublimate : See Mercury. 



4:8 TILIi THE DOOTOK COMES. 

CocTJLUs Indictjs : See poisonous Plants. 

Gkeen Vitriol : Sulphate of iron. — Symptoms : Fain, 
sickness, burning heat of stomach. — Treatment: Give an 
emetic, afterwards magnesia or carbonate of soda and wa« 
ter. 

Iodine : Iodide of potassium, or soda, or iron. — 8ymp* 
toms : Burning pain in throat, heartburn, vomiting, very 
likely salivation. — Treatment: Large quantities of cold 
starch-and-water, or flour-and-water. 

Lead : Acetate, or sugar of lead, red lead, white lead. 
— Symptoms, if taken in large quantity : Metallic taste in 
the mouth, pain in stomach, painful vomiting, often bloody, 
hiccough. — Treatment : Put two ounces of Epsom salts into 
a pint of water, and give a wineglassful every ten minutes, 
till it operates freely. Taken in small quantities, either 
by drinking water out of a new lead cistern, or one newly 
repaired with white lead, or by working amongst it ; lead 
produces colic, loss of power in the limbs, especially wrist 
drop, and a blue line along the gums : in this case you will 
not require to do anything till the doctor comes. 

Laudanum : Opium, paregoric, soothing syrup, syrup 
of poppies, etc., etc. — Symptoms : Giddiness, stupor, grad- 
ually increasing into deep sleep, the pupil of the eye very 
small, lips blue, skin cold, heavy, slow breathing. — Treat- 
ment : Empty the stomach as quickly as possible by vomit- 
ing. For an adult give fifteen grains of sulphate of zinc 
in a little water ; to a young person half the quantity, to 
an infant a teaspoonful of syrup of ipecac. If you can- 
not get drugs, use mustard and warm water, salt-and- 
water, and tickle the top of the throat. After vomiting 
give plenty of very strong coffee, put a mustard plaster 
round the calf of each leg, and if cold and sinking give a 
good quantity of spirit-and- water. Keep the patient 
roused till the effect has passed off by beating the soles 
of the feet, walking him about, or dashing cold water oh 



POISONS AND POISONINQ. 49 

the face. Remember if the patient goes to sleep at this 
stage, it will be the sleep of death. 

Lunar Caustic, or Nitrate of Silver, has been 
swallowed by accident when used for touching a sore 
throat, etc. — Symptoms: Burning pain, similar to arsenic. 
— Treatment: Give a large teaspoonful of common salt in 
a glass of water, and repeat this in ten minutes. Then a 
dose of castor oil, and linseed tea, or barley-water for a 
drink. 

Mercury : Calomel, corrosive sabliraate, red precipi- 
tate, vermilion, etc. — Sym,pt07ns : Metallic taste in mouth, 
burning pain in throat, stomach and bowels, vomiting, 
very painful purging, and cramps. — Treatm^ent: Give the 
white of an ^^^^ in a little water, repeat this twice more 
with five minutes between each time, give large quanti- 
ties of milk or flour-and- water, then linseed tea. 

Nitre, or Saltpetre. — Symptoms : Similar to arsen- 
ic. — Treatment: Give plenty of flour-and-water, then lin- 
seed or sweet oil. 

Opium: See Laudanum. 

Phosphorus: Lucifer matches. — Symptoms: Great 
excitement of the whole system ; other effects like arse- 
nic. — Treatment: Give large quantities of warm water 
with magnesia, chalk, or whiting, or even flour, stirred in 
it ; encourage vomiting, but give no oil or fat of any de- 
scription. 

Poisonous Plants or Seeds: False mushrooms, or 
anything of the kind picked up by children, but which 
you cannot tell at the time. — Treatment: Empty the 
stomach by any emetic you have at hand : warm water, 
nmstard, salt, or soap, warm chamomile tea, etc. If there 
be no purging, give a good dose of castor oil or olive oil. 
If tlie patient be faint or sinking, give stimulants. 

Potash : Soda, ammonia, sal volatile, salt cake, disin- 
fecting fluids of concentrated solutions of soda or potash 
3 



60 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

— Symptoms : Heat, pain in stomach, vomiting, and purg- 
ing. — Treatm,ent: Vinegar-and- water, oranges, lemons, 
sour beer or cider, or sour fruit. Afterwards, olive, lin- 
seed, or any wholesome oil. 

Prussic Acid: Oil of bitter almonds, laurel- water, 
(5yanide of potassium, used by photographers and others. 
— Symptoms : If the quantity be large, death takes place 
instantly, but smaller quantities produce giddiness, loss 
of sight, and fainting. The peculiar smell is often per- 
ceptible about the mouth. — Treatment: Give sal volatile 
and water, and apply a bottle of smelling salts to the 
nose, dash cold water on the face, and give stimulants. 

Strychnine : Eat poison, etc., nux vomica. — Symp- 
tom,s: There is lockjaw, twitching of the muscles, convul- 
sions, the body is bent backwards, so as to rest upon the 
feet and head only. — Treatment: Try to empty the stom- 
ach by an emetic, then give linseed-tea or barley-water, 
and to an adult thirty drops of laudanum occasionally to 
relieve the spasms. There are other remedies, but not 
such as can be used without a doctor being present. 

Tartar Emetic : See Antimony. 

Zinc Oxide: Symptoms and Treatment — As in cop- 
per. 

Always bear in mind that cases of poisoning admit of 
no delay. In many diseases and accidents an hour or 
two may be of no consequence, but here we must think of 
minutes, and the life or death of the patient will depend 
upon how you employ them. 

TO RESTORE A PERSON APPARENTLY DROWNED. 

The Royal Humane Society some years ago published 
the following directions as to what should be done for peo 
pie who seemed to be dead from drowning or suffocaticii| 
prepared by Dr. Sylvester and Dr. Marshall Hall : — 



TO RESTORE IN APPARENT DROWNING. 51 

Send immediately for medical assistance, blankets, 
and dry clothing, but proceed to treat the patient instant' 
ly, securing as much fresh air as possible. 

The points to be aimed at are — first, and immediately 
the restoration of breathing ; and secondly, after breath' 
ing is restored, the promotion of warmth and circulation. 
The efforts to restore life must be persevered in until the 
arrival of medical assistance, or until the pulse and 
breathing have ceased for at least an hour. 



TREATMENT TO RESTORE NATURAL BREATHING. 

To maintain a Free Entrance of Air into the Wind 
pipe. — Cleanse the mouth and nostrils. This is best done 
by placing the patient gently face downward for a mo- 
ment with one of his wrists under his forehead. This 
allows any fluids to escape from the mouth and throat 
and the tongue to fall forward ; draw forth the patient's 
tongue, and keep it forward ; an elastic band over the 
tongue and under the chin will answer this purpose, Rf» 
move all tight clothing from about the neck and chest. 

To adjust the Patients Position. — Place the patient 
on his back with the head and shoulders raised, and 
supported on a small firm cushion, such as a folded coat. 

To imitate the Movements of Breathing. — Grasp the 
patient's arms just above the elbows, and draw the arms 
gently and steadily upwards, until they meet above the 
head (this is for the purpose of drawing air into the 
lungs) ; and keep the arms in that position for two sec- 
onds. Then turn down the patient's arms, and press 
them gently and firmly for two seconds against the sides 
of the thesl (this is with the object of pressing air out 
of the lungs: pressure on the breast-bone will aid this). 

Repeat these measures alternately, deliberately, and 
perse veringly, fifteen times in a minute, until a spontane* 



5^ TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

ous effort to breathe is perceived, immediately upon 
which cease tc imitate the movements of breathing, and 
proceed to Iziduce circulation and warmth. 

Should a warm bath be procurable, the body may be 
placed in it up to the neck, continuing to imitate the 
movements of breathing. Raise the body in twenty 
seconds in a. sitting position, and dash cold Avater against 
the chest and face, and pass ammonia under the nose. 
The patient should not be kept in the warm bath longer 
than five or six minutes. 

To excite Inspiration. — During the employment of tlift 
above method excite the nostrils with snuff or smelling- 
^alts, or tickle the throat with a feather. Rub the chest 
and face briskly, and dash cold and hot water alternately 
on them. 

TREATMENT AFTER NATURAL BREATHING HAS BEEN RE- 
STORED. 

To induce Circulation and Warmth. — Wrap the pa- 
tient in dry blankets and commence rubbing the limbs up- 
wards, firmly and energetically. The friction must be 
continued under the blankets or over the dry clothing. 

Promote the warmth of the body by the application 
of hot flannels, bottles or bladders of hot water, heated 
bricks, etc., to the pit of the stomach, the armpits, between 
the thighs, and to the soles of the feet. Warm clothing 
may generally be obtained fi'om bystanders. 

On the restoration of life, when the power of swallow- 
ing has returned, a teaspoonful of warm water, small 
quantities of T\Tiie, warm brandy and water, or coffee, 
should be given. The patient should be kept in bed, and 
a disposition to sleep encouraged. During reaction large 
mustard plasters to the chest and below the shoulders will 
greatly i-elieve the distressed breathing. Great care is 
requisite to maintain the restored vital action, and at the 



FEVEK. 53 

same time to prevent undue excitement. Persevere lor at 
least three or four hours. 

Do not be discouraged if you do not produce any good 
effect at once, but persevere. There have been cases of 
recovery after suspended animation oi Jive hours. You 
will feel it a glorious reward when you see the dead re- 
stored to life through your exertions. [The same plan 
may be used, except removing the clothes, when a person 
is suffocated with foul air of any description. In this 
case, too, cold water should be freely applied to the head. 
And here I would give you a word of caution. Before 
entering any old well, sewer, or other place where you 
may suspect the air to be bad, let down a lighted candle 
into it. If this will not burn, it is not fit for you to enter. 
Never use charcoal for warming a room when any one is in 
it. The gas given off when it is burning is so deadly, 
that I have seen a husband and wife suffocated in bed, 
though the charcoal was placed on the hearth.] 



FEVER. 

When nursing a case of fever, never forget the great 
subject of ventilation. Change the atmosphere of the 
room frequently ; blow the bad air out of it, and fresh air 
into it, not only that the patient may have the best possi- 
ble chance of recovery, but for your own sake and for the 
sake of others. In every sick room, but especially in case 
of fever, the chimney should be open ; and an open fire 
should be kept up, even if the weather be quite mild, or if 
the house have a furnace in it. This is not necessarily bo 
much for heating as for ventilating the room in the best 
way. If possible, use soft coal in preference to hard. Let 
the patient's hair be cut short, to enable you to attend to 
it properly, and it will also tend to keep the head of the 
sufferer cool and comfortable. When a person is delirious 



54 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

with fever, the dreams and fancies are ahnost alw.ivrs ' f a 
painful nature, the countenance showing plainly that the 
mind is troubled. There is a sense of fear, a dread of 
something which he may not have the power to explain 
to you. Try in every way to gain his confidence ; listen 
patiently to his complaints, however ridiculous they may 
appear to you ; do not contradict, or tease him with argu- 
ment. Remember " dreams to the dreamer are realities," 
and these things terrify him just as much as if they were 
actually in the room. It is very common for some part of 
the furniture to take frightful shapes in the eyes of a fever 
patient. Perhaps he may be able to tell you what it is, 
^ut if not, by carefully watching the eyes, you will find 
him look steadily at one object, and then turn away sud- 
denly, as if he were trying to escape. When these visions 
are troubling the patient, the best plan, if you can do so, 
is to remove him into another room. The effect is won- 
derful. The visions disappear, the dreadful forms are all 
gone, and the bright and cheerful face tells you better than 
words what a relief he feels. If you cannot change the 
room, change the furniture, and if that cannot be done, 
alter its position. 

A singular and yet not uncommon thing in fever with 
delirium is a strong dislike taken by the patient to a par- 
ticular person, and this generally not a stranger, but a 
near relative, one who is greatly beloved by him when in 
health, and who has been for days and nights watching 
over him. In some cases this feeling of dislike grows into 
a hatred so deep that it is not safe to allow the person to 
remain aione in the room. This is very distressing ; it ap- 
pears so ungrateful, such a poor return for all the care and 
kindness bestowed upon him, so unnatural, -.hat it is hard 
to bear. But it should be remembered thai: it is unnatu- 
ral ; it is tlie result of disease, and has no more to do with 
a patient's real affection than taking a dislike to some par- 



FEVEK. 55 

ticular article of food. As the mind becomes healthy this 
will pass off; but it is very desirable that the person to 
whom the dislike is taken should be removed as soon aa 
possible, and not again enter the room till the mind is in 
a healthier state, or the feeling may become so fixed that 
it will require a long time to subdue it. 

During the great thirst of fever you will frequently 
find that the patient, particularly a child, will prefer 
pure water to any other drink; but if you require a 
change, you will find what is called apple-tea cheap and 
refreshing. Peel the apples and cut them in very thin 
slices into a jug with some clean sugar, fill up with boil- 
ing water, and let stand till quite cold. The quantity 
cannot be fixed, as that must depend upon the quality of 
the fruit. Another pleasant drink is made of the juice 
of three or four oranges and one lemon in a quart of wa- 
ter with a little sugar. When you cannot easily get 
either oranges or lemons, buy a small bottle of lime-juice ; 
this will keep good in a cool place for a great length of 
time; it is very wholesome, and a tablespoonful, with 
half a pint of water, sweetened, will make a glass of 
good lemonade in a minute. Perfect silence is not always 
desirable. It is not a good thing to put on list slippers, 
and walk about without any noise ; if you go up to the 
bedside of a patient in this way, he may get a severe 
fright. In talking, the same rule holds good; do not 
whisper, it will very likely awaken the sleeper, just be- 
cause it is a strange sound ; speak in your natural voice, 
and it will not arouse him, though it be louder than a 
whisper, for he hears it every day, and is used to it. 
Therefore let all every-day sounds go on as usual, unless 
complained of by the patient^ and let this reflection com- 
fort you — Sleep in the midst of noise is sounder and 
more likely to continue than in a dead silence, be(3ause 
slight causes are less likely to disturb it. 



56 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

Is it well to awaken a patient to give food or medi- 
cine? Generally you may conclude that if a patient 
sleeps he is doing well; but in the sinking stage of fever, 
or other great debility, it may be needful to give some 
thing frequently. After days and nights of watchful- 
ness, where the mind is wandering with fever, the patient 
will fall into a long sleep, which may last many hours. 
I have one now enjoying excellent health, who slept in 
this way thirty-seven hours. This is the turning-point of 
the disease, and generally the patient awakens with the 
mind restored, and from that time commences, as it were, 
a new life. 

When fever is once formed, it runs a regular course, 
like small-pox. We must try to weaken it as much as 
possible by fresh air, and support life by suitable diet, till 
the disease has worn itself out. But as a person not ac- 
customed to such things cannot know at the beginning 
whether the illness be fever or not, you must act only in 
such a way as to do good if it be fever, and no harm if it 
be not. 

A person, perhaps after getting wet or being exposed 
to cold, complains of headache, shivering, pains in the 
limbs, back, and throat ; put him to bed and give him 
some hot drink, soak his feet in hot mustard water, and 
at night give a dose of castor oil. Having done so much, 
wait to see if he will not throw off the attack, which 
may have been but an ordinary cold. 

SCARLET FEVER. 

It is very desirable that you should be able to distin- 
guisli between scarlet fever and measles, for the first is a 
most fatal disease, and the second, with proper care, will 
seldom destroy life. Ihere are two kinds of scarlet 
fever: the mild form, where there is little or no sore 



SCARLET FEVEK. 57 

thr(jat, and in which the eruption does not appear till the 
fourth day, and which, if the child be kept warm, gener- 
ally passes off without doing any harm ; and the malig- 
nant, with ulcerated sore throat, which is a dreadful dis- 
ease, often proving fatal. 

The difference between scarlet fever and measles is — 

In Scarlet Fever — In Measles — 

The eruption is bright scarlet. The eruption is dark red color. 

It appears on the second day. Does not till the fourth day. 

Is quite smooth to the touch. Is raised. 

Is in small round spots. Is larger and crescent-shaped. 

Disappears on pressure. Does not disappear. 

The face is quite dry. Face swelled, running from the 

eyes and nose. 

Symptoms of Scarlet Fever. — Vomiting, which fre- 
quently comes on suddenly while the child is at play. 
Headache, a feeling of depression and weakness, as if all 
the strength had gone, and shivering. Next day there is 
hoarseness, difficulty of swallowing, hot, dry skin, great 
thirst, the poor child sighs frequently, and complains of 
pain like needles pricking all over the body. The rash 
now appears, first in scarlet patches on the face, spreads 
down the neck and over the body. The tongue is a fiery 
bright red, like a ripe strawberry. The throat swells, 
and there is a great difficulty in swallowing. About the 
fifth day the scailet color fades and turns brown, and the 
skin peels off. Never undertake the treatment of this 
yourself, if you can get proper assistance. Apply hot 
fomentations constantly to the throat, and give oranges, 
lemonade, raspberry vinegar and water, black currant 
tea, or apple tea, for drink. Above all things, keep the 
child well protected from cold. When the skin begins to 
peel off, you will find the child constantly picking the 
nose, lips, and tips of the fingers. It is a curious thing 
how children in this state seem to feel no pain, but to take 
3* 



58 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

to delight in doing this. No coaxing nor threats will havo 
any eflect ; your only remedy is to put a pair of mittena 
or worsted socks on the hands and secure them to the 
waistbands of the dress ; then the fingers and thumb will 
meet inside the sock without getting hold of the skin. 

Keep the child in the house a fortnight after he seems 
quite well. 

This disease, like small-pox, is very infectious. I 
have known a whole family prostrated by the lady mere y 
standing for two or three minutes in the lobby of an in- 
fected house. I also know a case of a nobleman's house, 
where the whole of the furniture of the room was burnt, 
the other rooms were repainted and papered, and the 
house left empty for four months, yet the disease broke 
out again from using some clothing which had remained in 
it. Never allow any clothes of a patient to be washed 
in the house, but always outside; do not pour boiling 
water on to them and stand over the steam. Fever is 
not a solitary disease like rheumatism or dropsy, affect- 
ing only one person ; but when it once fixes itself, it is 
impossible to tell how many it will attack before it quits 
the locality ; therefore, if you have it in your own house, 
do not allow any j^erson to enter it, and never yourself 
go to any such place from idle curiosity ; but if it be your 
duty to go, do your duty without fear, and leave the rest 
with God. 

After scarlet fever or small-pox the sick room and all 
the articles used in it should be thoroughly disinfected. 
This may be very thoroughly and well done by closing 
up the room air-tight, after removing everything wet or 
moist from it, and then burning sulphur in it — a few 
ounces on an iron pipkin or kettle with legs. Every per- 
son should leave the room after the sulphur is lighted, 
and it should be left closed for several houis. 



SMALL-POX. 59 



MEASLES. 



We come to another infectious disease, but one which, 
with ordinary care, is not fatal, as a general rule. 

ISyniptoms. — The child appears as if it had a cold in 
the head, sneezing, cough, running at the eyes and nose, 
Itching of the face, the eyes are red, and very sensitive to 
the light. 

On the fourth day small red spots appear on the face, 
generally in clusters, and then spread. If you examine 
them carefully, you will find they are not round, but cres- 
cent or half-moon shape. In measles the fever increases 
as the rash comes out. When it has been out three days 
it turns brown, and the skin crumbles off like bran. The 
common saying with regard to measles is, " It is three 
days out, and four days in," that is, that the patient is ill 
four days before the eruption appears, and that it re- 
mains three days. At this stage, diarrhcea frequently 
occurs. 

Let the child be in a room shaded from any strong 
light. Kee}? the chest particularly well protected from 
cold. Give plenty of warm weak drinks, such as tea, ar- 
rowroot, etc., and if the breathing is difficult, put on a 
mustard and oat-meal poultice to the chest, and give a 
small dose of purgative medicine, if needful. In general 
this is all that is required, if you only protect the child 
from getting cold. But if the disease is not running its 
usual course, and more than this is needful, you will need 
good medical advice. 

SMALL-POX. 

In the ten years from 1856 to 1866, fifty thousand per- 
sons have died of small-pox in England, of which number 
nine thousand four hundred and twenty-five perished in 



60 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

one year ; that is to say, five thousand lives are sacri- 
ficed every year by stupidity and neglect. 

The symptoms, when small-pox first comes on, are 
fever, pains in the limbs and back, headache, vomiting, 
and pain on pressing the pit of the stomach. 

On the third day, small red spots appear on the fac« 
and head ; these gradually rise and enlarge, the eruption 
spreads over the whole body, into the ears, eyes, nose, 
mouth, and throat. The hands, feet, and face swell, there 
is great difficulty in swallowing ; by the eighth day the 
face is a mass of pocks. In severe cases the eyes are 
often seriously affected and the sight sometimes lost. 
On the eleventh day the sores discharge and form a dry 
crust, which gradually dries and falls off". This is the time 
when it so frequently proves fatal. In seventeen to twen- 
ty days the disease may be said to have run its course. 

Small-pox, when once taken, moves on by fixed laws, 
and nothing you can do will either cut it short or cure it ; 
it must go through its regular stages. Still, you may be 
very useful. In the first place, cut the hair close, for it 
is impossible for you to brush it after the pocks have 
risen. To prevent pitting, you must keep the light from 
the patient's face, either by covering it with a piece of 
something black — say silk — with holes cut in it for the 
mouth and nostrils ; or by keeping the room dark. 
Anoint the parts with sweet oil to prevent itching. Cov- 
ering the face is better than darkening the room — it is 
more convenient for the attendants, and has a better 
effect upon the skin. The part of the body covered by 
the clothes is scarcely marked in comparison with the 
parts exposed — as the face and hands. 

Remember, that this disease is dreadfully infectious 5 
BO look well after ventilation, read over carefully the direc- 
tions I gave when writing about the sick room, and send 
for the doctor. 



CHOLERA. 61 

As we know to a slight extent the ravages of this 
dreadful disease, and poverty and misery caused by it, 
it is plainly the duty of every one of us to do our utmost 
to prevent it ; and the only way to do this is by vaccina- 
tion. Vaccination either prevents the person taking it at 
all, or, if it be taken, changes it from a terribly fatal com- 
plaint into one which scarcely ever destroys life or sight, 
or injures the patient in any way. I have myself had 
numbers of patients who have been completely covered 
with the modified eruption — inside the eyelids, ears, nose, 
mouth, and in the throat — but I have never yet seen a per- 
son die, or lose the sight, or he disfigured, xoho hadheen pro- 
perly and successfully vaccinated. 

This, then, is your duty. Get yourself and children 
vaccinated ; let no foolish person persuade you against it ; 
and if small-pox breaks out near you, have it done again. 
It takes very little time, it gives so little pain, that it 
may be done without awaking a child out of its sleep, 
and it need not keep you from your usual employment. 
Let me entreat you not to neglect this, the only known 
precaution ; if you do, you commit a great crime, for you 
not only run the risk of taking the disease yourself, but 
of infecting the neighborhood in which you live 

CHOLERA. 

ASIATIC CHOLERA. 

I'ins terrible disease sweeps over the land at times 
like a destroying angel, leaving houses desolate, and hur- 
rying thousands unprepared into the grave. It is of the 
utmost importance that you should be able to distinguish 
between common purging and true cholera. In common 
looseness, you have two kinds — one where the motions are 
a dirty pipe-clay color, and very oifensive, showing too 
little bile ; in the other, a bright yellow color, with some 



63 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

burning, smarting pain, showing too much bile — what in 
caUed bilious purging. 

Symptoms of True Cholera. For one or perhaps for 
two days, there is gentle purging; if not stopped it quickly 
runs on to the next stage. What now passes from the 
bowels is not offensive, it is like rice water or very thin 
gruel, and all control over the bowels is lost. It gives no 
pain, there is no straining, though there may be very se- 
vere cramps. In a few hours all strength is gone, the body, 
the tongue, and even the breath are quite cold, the nails 
turn blue, there is great thirst, perhaps constant vomiting ; 
the eyes sink more in a few hours than they would do 
in months of ordinary illness, and the most remarkable 
change takes place in the voice. It becomes a small 
squeaking whisper, so unnatural and so peculiar that any 
one who has seen much of cholera could distinguish it in 
a moment by the voice alone. 

There is no cure for cholera when it once takes hold 
of the system ; every description of medicine likely to do 
good has been tried by the most skilful physicians, but so 
far we know of no remedy. The time to do good is in 
the early stage. Commence at once ; let the patient get 
to bed, apply hot bricks and fomentations to the extremi- 
ties and mustard plasters to the bowels. He may also at 
first take some hot drink to try to bring on perspiration. 
In the absence of a physician an adult may take ten 
drops of laudanum and ten of spirits of camphor. A 
child of ten years five of each; a child of five yeara 
three drops of each, and these doses may be repeated 
every twenty minutes as long as diarrhoea or pain or 
vomiting continues. This may save time, but in all 
cases send for a physician at once. 

All damp, dirty places, particularly where the watei 
is not good, are most likely to be visited by it. 



BOWEL COMPLAINTS. 63 

People who are dirty and intemperate have less chance 
of recovery than others. 

All the discharges of a person ill with cholera should 
be at once removed from the room, and the utensils and 
clothing thoroughly scalded with boiling water. 

Cholera Morbus. — The attack of cholera morbus ia 
very apt to occur at night. It is marked by sudden and 
severe vomiting, followed by purging and accompanied 
by severe cramps, generally in the bowels. These are 
temporarily relieved by the evacuations. Another fea- 
ture is thirst. At the same time the skin is quite cool. 
Generally speaking, one would recover from the attack 
without medical aid, though at the cost of much suffer- 
ing, which timely treatment may prevent. Let the per- 
son go to bed, put a mustard plaster on the bowels, and 
stay on his back till the vomiting and purging have stop- 
ped for several hours. He may take the laudanum and 
camphor as directed for Asiatic cholera, but not oftener 
than after every movement of the bowels, instead of 
every twenty minutes. When the stomach begins to 
crave food, a cup of hot tea will probably throw him in- 
to a perspiration, and before that he should take nothing 
but the medicine and little bits of ice. 

BOWEL COMPLAINTS. 

Diarrhoea occurs every summer, and is frequently fatal 
to young children. Because it is common at the same 
time of the year that fruit is, it is generally thought that 
eating fruit is the cause of it. It is said to come in with 
the plum season : so it does, but not because of the 
plums, or infants at the breast would not so frequently 
die of it. Ripe, sound fruit, in its proper season, does 
no harm, but great good; but sour, unripe, or half-de- 
cayed fruit or vegetables are little better than poison ; so 



64 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

I would say, eat of the fruit of every tree which is good 
for the use of man, but have patience till it is ripe, and 
do not use any part which is decayed or rotting. WheL 
this complaint appears, it should be attended to, not al- 
ways stopped immediately, for it is often an effort of na- 
ture to throw oiF something which is better aw?y : but if 
allowed to run on, it becomes serious. 

Now comes the important question, — How to know 
when to stop the action of the bowels, and when to as- 
sist them. You may take this as a good general rule. If 
what passes from the bowels be very offensive, or if they 
have not been sufficiently acted upon for some days, then 
clear them out with a dose of castor-oil before you give 
anything else. 

In the case of a child it will be as well to use the 
spiced syrup of rhubarb instead of castor oil. A tea- 
spoonful may be given an infant. In any case, put the 
child to bed, pin a flannel bandage tightly round the 
bowels, and give no food whatever for some hours. Per- 
fect quiet upon the back is of the utmost importance. 
These latter directions should be followed out in all cases 
of bowel complaints, of whatever kind. 

If there is pain in the bowels, apply either a mustard 
plaster or else treat as follows : Make a common dinner 
plate or small dish quite hot, lay on some folds of flan- 
nel wrung out of hot water, place the hot plate over this, 
taking care that the edges do not extend beyond the 
flannel ; then cover with a dry towel. By having two 
plates, one at the fire while the other is in use, you can 
change them in a moment, and get any amount of heat 
you require without the weight of a large poultice. 

After the operation of the purgative medicine oui 
great reliance must be upon opium, and laudanum may 
be given in the doses recommended under the head of 
cliolera, after each passage. But you should not give 



BOWEL COMPLAINTS. 66 

laudanum or even paregoric to a baby, except by direc- 
tion of a physician. 

Dysentery commences with fever and hot dry skin. 
The child will perhaps scream as if in a fright, and be 
delirious, or have cold shiverings ; afterwards a continual 
desire to go to stool, with straining pain in the lower 
part of the bowels. What passes is very small in quan- 
tity, like jelly, streaked with blood. When you see this, 
have the best advice you can get. If you are obliged to 
act for yourself, adopt this plan : — 

Unless you are quite sure the bowels have acted prop- 
erly within the last two days, give a dose of castor oil. 
But the part of the treatment most to be relied upon is 
this : — Make a little thin starch, and to one tablespoon- 
ful of this add one drop of laudanum, and with a small 
syringe squirt this up into the child's bowels, and keep it 
there as long as possible. This should be used two or 
three times in the twenty-four hours. Increase the quan- 
tity of laudanum by one drop for each year of the child's 
age up to five ; but, as I remarked before, for this com- 
plaint secure the assistance of a doctor if within your 
reach. 

Great care should be taken to scald with boiling wa- 
ter the vessel or bedpan used by a person having dysen- 
tery, as this disease may be conveyed by the evacuations. 
In dysentery, as also in cholera, the privy vaults and wa- 
ter-closets should be disinfected by a solution of copperas 
(sulphate of iron) poured into them daily. Eight or ten 
pounds to five gallons of water makes a proper solution 
for the purpose. 

Colic, or pains in the bowels without purging, com- 
monly called gripes. You may generally relieve this by 
applying hot fomentations, and giving a dose of castor 
oil with plenty of spice, such as grated nutmeg, cinna- 
mon, etc. 



66 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

HOOPING COUGH AND CROUP. 

Hooping Cough does not show itself decidedly in 
two or three days, like scarlet fever or measles. At fii'st 
there are merely the symptoms of a slight cold. The 
ch!ld has a short, dry cough, particularly when taking 
food. This will go on for a Aveek, or perhaps nearly a 
fortnight, before you hear the peculiar sound, which you 
cannot mistake. The fit of coughing is preceded by a 
sort of convulsive drawing in of the breath, which, as it 
rushes into the chest, causes the whoop. The cough 
lasts for about a minute, and generally ends in vomiting. 
The breathing is then quiet, and the child appears pretty 
comfortable till the approach of the next fit. In children 
under two years of age this disease is more dangerous 
than in older ones. 

If the child should have convulsions, seek advice im- 
mediately. In milder cases, you will find that time and 
plenty of fresh air in fine weather will bring about a cure. 
If the breathing be very bad, put a good hot mustard 
and oatmeal poultice on the chest ; and if the chest is a 
good deal stufied and the child does not often vomit af- 
ter the coughing fit, a teaspoonful of syrup of ipecac may 
be given with advantage. When the complaint has gone 
on for some weeks, change of air is the only thing which 
can be depended upon for stopping it. If you allow the 
child to get cold while it has this complaint, you cannot 
reasonably expect it to recover. 

Ceoup requires immediate attention, for if neglected 
it may destroy life in one or two days. It commences 
vrith hoarseness and short dry cough. The difficulty of 
breathing quickly increases, and soon becomes very dis- 
tressing; the child fights for breath, and seems to re- 
quire all its strength to force the air in and out of the 
chest. The face is flushed, the voice and breathing mako 



CROUP. 



67 



a peculiar sound, which it is almost impossible to de- 
scribe, but which, if you once hear, you will never Ibrget: 
it is a sort of a rasping, grating, choking sound, and the 
voice, when the child speaks, is something like the noise 
of a fowl when caught in the hand. I would recommend 
all mothers who have not seen croup to do so, if there be 
a case of it within reach, and then they will be able to 
distinguish it from the choking sound of mumps or com- 
mon sore throat. 

Night or day, send at once for a doctor. Till the 
doctor comes, proceed in this way: Give one or two 
teaspoonfuls of syrup of ipecacuanha ; if needful, repeat 
it every fifteen minutes and give warm water to drink 
till the child vomits plentifully; put the feet into hot 
water and mustard till the skin is quite red, and a good 
large poultice, made with two parts oatmeal or bran and 
one part mustard, well up to the throat, and keep it on 
till it reddens the skin. Three hours after the vomiting, 
give the child a teaspoonful of water with two drops of 
syrup of ipecac in it, for each year of its age, up to ten 
drops ; that is, for a child one year old, two drops ; four 
years old, eight drops; and so on. Repeat this two or 
three times in the twenty-four hours. The object is to 
keep the child constantly feeling sick, just on the point of 
vomiting. If the breathing be not relieved the first day, 
you must repeat the vomiting, or the throat may close 
up and the child be sufibcated. Mix in a tea-cup equal 
parts of molasses and good common vinegar ; let it stand 
where it will keep just warm, and give the child a small 
teaspoonful frequently ; you may put more or less of each 
article according to the strength of the vinegar, as the 
child finds agreeable. For croup and all descriptions of 
sore throat, there is no remedy equal to this old-fashioned, 
simple mixture. To save a child when taken ill with 
croup, you must attack it at once, and act decidedly. 



6^ TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

Always obtain advice if you can. Delays are danger- 
ous, but by acting upon these directions you will have 
done all you can safely till the doctor comes. 

In any case of difliculty of breathing or pain in the 
chest you may always safely apply a mustard and oatmeal 
or bran poultice till the skin is red (and it reddens in u 
very few minutes in young children), but never apply 
leeclies or a blister to a child without the doctor's advice. 



COMMON COLD AND INFLUENZA. 

The best plan to adopt with a common Cold, is to 
restore the proper action of the skin as soon as possible. 

Various methods may be used : for instance, a person 
feels that peculiar warning, which makes him say, " Now 
I'm in for a cold, I feel it coming on — headache, chilly, 
creeping feeling of the skin, and a state of miserablenesfe 
generally." If he can manage it, let him go at once and 
take a Turkish or common vapor bath. Or if he can spare 
the time, let him go to bed, take ten grains of Dover's 
powder, with a little sugar, put a large hot bran or oatmeal 
poultice all over his chest, and in an hour after the powder 
take a pint of hot tea, or thin gruel, and put on an extra 
blanket or two. The next morning he should be well rub- 
bed all over with a coarse tov/el, and take a Seidlitz pow- 
der or a large teaspoonful of Epsom salts, either of them, 
in warm water. But suppose it comes on when business 
must be attended to. Let him put on an extra quantity 
of clothing, drink a pint of hot tea, and take a quick walk 
till the skin is quite damp with perspiration, then cool 
down gradually. If a person has cold, not very bad, but 
what is called " hanging about them," a pint of cold wa- 
ter at bedtime, and a little extra bedclothes, will be an 
excellent remedy without any medicine. But whichever 
plan you adopt, do not half do it ; if you are obliged to 



FITS. 69 

give way, do it thoroughly, stay in bed from twelve to 
twenty-four hours, and give the cold a check. If you are 
compelled to go out, put on plenty of clothing, work hard 
at your business, and bustle about as much as possible. 

Influenza. — I do not know any complaint which pro- 
duces such depression of spirits as this. I have had strong, 
able men, such as " navvies," who work out in all weath 
ers, come and ask me if they were likely to die soon, they 
felt so " down." Any one attacked with Influenza should 
give up at once, remain in bed, and encourage perspiration 
by every means in his power. If it can be had, the Do- 
ver's powder should be taken, as in common colds, and 
repeated if needful, and either with or without this, I have 
found the following preparation of milk very useful. It 
is called wine whey, made by putting two wineglassfuls 
of white wine and one teaspoonful of vinegar to a pint of 
milk; simmer it very gently so as not to break tlie curd, 
then strain and sweeten. If you are in the country, get 
the whey direct from the dairy. If you are not able to 
get wine, use rum in the sweet milk. There is no objec- 
tion to the use of a little spice to give an agreeable flavor. 
Either of these may be given in divided quantities very 
frequently, and are generally very pleasant to the patient. 



FITS. 

Fits in children generally arise from teething, worms, 
or some other substance irritating the stomach and bowels, 
or from something wrong with the brain. Supposing a 
fit has come on, and you have no physician at hand, apply 
cloths dipped in hot mustard and water or turpentine, to 
the feet and the lower part of the legs till the skin is quite 
reddened, and cold water to the head. While doing this, 
have one, two, or three teaspoonsful of syrup of ipecacu- 
anha, or mustard and warm water ready ; watch for an op« 



70 TILL THE DOCTOK COMES. 

portunity. and get a sufficient quantity swallowed to pro* 
duce vomiting. When this is over, the child will most 
likely take a long sleep. When you are sufiiciently calm 
after jOT.r painful task, for it is very painful to see a little 
one in such a state, it becomes your duty to endeavor to 
find out the cause, and so, if possible, prevent a return. If 
it be the teeth, lancing the gums may be needful ; if from the 
stomach, a purgative dose; if from worms, the treatment 
as given in page 97. But perhaps the brain is at fault. 
You should therefore procure the best advice you can, and 
do not take the responsibility upon yourself. But if away 
from medical assistance, a great deal can be done by keep- 
ing the brain free from excitement, strictly attending to 
the digestion, and carefully guarding the child from eating 
aoy of the numerous articles called " trash," which they 
seem to eat for no earthly reason but that they are not fit 
for them. 

In adults, you will meet with apoplexy, epilepsy, and 
other seizures. In nearly every case these are so sudden, 
that it is not possible for you to procure a doctor ; and, 
therefore, it is all the more needful for you to have an an- 
swer to the question, " Can I do anything ? and, if so, what 
is the best thing to do ?" Well, then, the best thing you 
can do, in a fit of any description is, first, to loosen the cloth- 
ing, stays, collar, necktie, cap string, or whatever there 
may be. Suppose it be Apoplexy. In many cases this 
is so quickly fatal that your services will be useless ; but, 
if not, you will find the face flushed — nearly purple, the 
breathing labored, like very deep snoring ; and all power 
gone from the limbs. After loosening the clothes, raise 
the head and shoulders well up, but be careful not to bend 
the neck forward on to the breast. Apply cold to the head, 
and warmth to the f(!et. If you know that the person has 
taken a meal shortly before the attack, give mustard and 
water, or any other emetic at hand. After thia has oper- 



MISCELLANEOUS. 71 

ated, a dose of purgative medicine or an injection. If a 
sufficient quantity of fluid cannot be swallowed, and you 
cannot excite vomiting by tickling the throat, etc., get from 
the apothecary two drops of croton oil, on a small bit 
of sugar or butter, and put it on the tongue, and, if possi- 
ble, get i "j swallowed ; if you be away from an apothecary, 
or hav<; not the oil, you must wait till you can give some 
ordinary purgative. Any person, with a stout habit of 
body, or short neck and florid, crimson countenance, should 
carefully avoid all descriptions of food likely to disagree 
with him, and never eat a heavy meal, particularly near 
bedtime. 

In Epilepsy you have convulsive working of the mus- 
cles of the face and limbs, and also very frequently bit- 
ing the tongue — quite diflerent from the stupid, heavy, 
drunken- like state of apoplexy. All that you can do 
during the fit is to protect the patient from injury, and 
get a piece of india-rubber, a towel, or handkerchief, be- 
tween the teeth, so as not to stop the breathing, but to 
protect the tongue. After recovery, endeavor to find if 
possible the cause, and let that, whether it be particular 
kinds of diet, occupation, or excitement, be abstained from. 
Sometimes a simple remedy, such as tying a bandage tight- 
ly round a leg or arm, will prevent an attack ; but gener- 
ally the seizure is too sudden to allow time for anything 
to be done. The cause and treatment of this sad com- 
plaint are far beyond the limits of this little book, and 
the remedies are such as ought not to be used, excepting 
under the watchful care of a physician. All that you can 
do 8 to guard your patient against injury, and to avoid 
th< cause — if you know it. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 
Ulcers op the Leg.- -It is not an uncommon tiling in 
country districts to find persons who have been afflicted 



72 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

with ulcers for a long time. They will tell you that they 
have poulticed with nearly every herb that ever grew, and 
used ointments made of almost every subrtance which can 
be found either on the earth, or in the earth, or in the 
waters under the earth ; yet they never show the slightest 
inclination to heal, but gradually become worse, till at 
last the constitution breaks down under the constant irri- 
tation, the drain, and the loss of exercise and sleep. 

No dressings will ever heal them without proper sup- 
port. Cut strips of sticking-plaster, so long that they 
will nearly, but not quite, meet round the leg, and as 
broad as two fingers. See that the parts are clean and 
dry ; warm the plaster, take one end of it in each hand, 
fix one end on the sound part, pull the plaster down hard 
and tight across the wound, and see that it does not slip ; 
begin at the bottom, two inches below the wound, and go 
up to two inches above it, letting the edge of each piece 
overlap the one below it half an inch, exactly like slates 
on the roof of a house. Then put on a bandage^ rather 
tightly^ but evenly^ from the toes to the knee, and let the 
leg be kept up. The plasters must be changed once a 
week, or oftener, as soon as they become loose or offensive, 
but not before. Never touch this or any other sore, 
when it is healing, with a rag, but pour the water on to it. 

The secret of curing these obstinate places is in giving 
support by the plaster and bandage. To do this the 
plaster must be pulled tight across the sore. 

Boils and Carbuncles are considered to show pover- 
ty of the blood, and should have a good diet, by which, 
however, I don't mean rich food, to cure them. But a 
boil, however painful, is not dangerous, and seldom re- 
quires more than a poultice, or a plaster of resin ointment, 
or the old-fashioned but excellent soap and sugar. A 
boil is a single lump, containing either soft matter or a 
harder substance called a core. When this is discharged, 



IN-GROWING NAILS. 73 

the place heals up, and the person feels little the worse. 
A carbuncle is a much larger sore, sometimes two of 
three inches wide, composed of cells like a honeycomb. 
The nape of the neck is a very frequent spot for one to 
appear. They are most painfully sensitive ; the patient 
dreads the slightest touch, or even breathing upon it. If 
you meet with a case of this description, seek advice at 
once, and, in the meanwhile, poultice and give the best 
diet you can. 

Whitlow or Felon. — Though in itself a small affair, 
there are few things which cause such suffering, and which 
are so neglected and allowed to have their own way. 
Surgeons are constantly meeting with people who have 
lost bones of the finger or thumb, and have stiff joints from 
this cause. At the commencement great relief is some- 
times obtained by soaking the part in the following mix- 
ture: take half a gill of strong vinegar, and dissolve in it 
a tablespoonful of saleratus (carbonate of potash). Let 
it be used as hot as can be borne, and repeat as often as 
the pain returns ; but if matter be formed there are two 
ways of treating it ; one by allowing the matter to destroy 
the parts and find its own way out, generally around the 
nail ; this takes from two to six weeks of severe suffering ; 
the other is by making a small opening down to the bone 
to allow the matter to escape, which takes one moment to 
do, gives relief in an hour, and can be done without giving 
any pain. It is a great pity for any one so to fear the 
very slight operation as to lose the use of a thumb for life, 
and if near a surgeon or a public institution there is in the 
present day no excuse. In either case a poultice must be 
constantly applied. 

In-growing Nails. — Some people are much troubled 

with the edges of the nail of a toe cutting into the flesh. 

The cause is, pressure on the nail, which is strong and 

round, so that the edges are driven directly downwards, 

4 



74: TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

Take a bit of broken mndow-glass, and scrape the arch of 
the nail, till it is so thin and weak that it cannot resist the 
pressure, and as a natural consequence, it will flatten and 
become wider. 

Bed Sores. — Perhaps many persons will be shocked 
when I tell them that scores of people die, when long con- 
fined to bed, not pf the disease or accident, but of sores 
caused by neglect ; and in numbers of cases neither patient 
nor nurse has any idea of what is going on. Particularly 
in fevers, the patient's mind is not in a state to complain 
of a slight pain, therefore such sores must be sought for 
by the nurse, and prevented. They generally form about 
the bottom of the back, and about the hips. The constant 
pressure of the body causes a slight redness at first, and 
if attended to then the mischief may be stopped ; but if 
allowed to go on, the part dies, and leaves a sore which 
too frequently takes away all chance of recovery. Ex- 
amine carefully every day, bathe the parts with spirit and 
water, and take off the pressure, first by altering the posi- 
tion, if possible, and secondly, by making little pillows or 
pads, and placing them so as to bear the weight. The in- 
dia rubber air cushions and rings are the best for this pur- 
pose. Unless you do this, all treatment you can adopt 
■\^dll be of no avail. 

Tooth-ache, Ear-ache, Pain in the Face. — Fill the 
ear on the painful side with laudanum, and plug it with 
a little wool or lint. To do this properly the person 
should lay the head on a table with the bad side upwards ; 
you need not fear putting too much in, it will do no harm. 
First warm the laudanum, by letting the bottle stand for 
a few minutes in warm water. Laudanum will not cure 
tooth-ache when the tooth is decayed, but it will frequent- 
ly give relief and a good night's rest, till you can have it 
properly attended to. 

Things in the Eye. — Bits of cinder, insects, chipping8 



THINGS m THE NOSE AND EAR. 75 

of jaetal or stone, frequently get fixed in the eye, general- 
ly under the upper lid. Shut the eye, pass a bodkin under 
the lid, press gently upon it with your finger, and pushing 
outwards, against the lid, with the bodkin, sweep the little 
nuisance into the inner corner of the eye. In steam-ves- 
sels, where cases of cinder in the eye are constantly occur- 
ring, I have found this plan almost always succeed. If 
you have not a bodkin, you can use the head of a smooth 
p7n, or any small, smooth article ; or pull the lid away 
from the eye, put a little slip of writing, paper under the 
lid, press gently upon it and draw it away. Simply lift- 
ing the upper lid away from the eyeball by taking hold 
of the eyelashes and drawing it down over the lower lid 
wi)l often suffice. Sometimes a small chipping of iron 
gets fixed on the ball of the eye, and engineers are often 
very expert in removing them with the point of a penknife. 
But if you can get a good magnet, it will draw away the 
(.hip of iron without any risk of injuring the eye. It will 
be safer however to go to an oculist for such cases. 

Things in the Nose and Ear. — Any one accustomed 
to children, knows how apt they are to push small articles, 
such as peas, beans, and pebbles, into these places. If in 
the nose, take a pair of small pliers, or a pair of scissors 
with blunt points ; put the points into the nostril, and 
then open them gently, across the face — you will be able 
to stretch the nostril without giving pain ; at the same 
time, put the finger above the substance and press it down- 
wards — not the finger and thumb, so as to pinch the nose. 
If tliis does not answer, draw out the scissors and tickle 
the inside of the nose, or give a very small pinch of snuif, 
so as to make the child sneeze. Syringing with warm 
water is the best and the only safe way for you to use to 
remove such things from the ear. If that fails go to a 
Burgeon at once. Peas and beans are of more consequence 
than stones or metal substances, foi they soon swell with 



76 TILL THE DOCTOIi COMES. 

the moisture and warmth of the place. I have myself 
known a pea left in the nostril of a poor neglected child 
tUl it began to sprout ; fortunately by that time it had be- 
come so soft that it was easily broken down and removed, 
and the ulcer prevented coming through the side. In case 
ot any insect getting into the ear, fill it with oil, and the 
insect will die immediately. 

Choking. — Bits of meat or bone — particularly fish- 
bone — ^become fixed in the throat, and according to the size, 
produce either sufibcation (choking) or troublesome tick- 
ling cough. 

Treatment. — If the person be choking, give a smart slap 
with the open hand between the shoulders. In nine cases 
out of ten the sudden compression of the air in the chest 
will shoot the substance out of the mouth ; but if not, 
look into the throat, and see if there be anything you can 
reach with your finger and thumb or a large blunt-pointed 
pair of scissors, and pull it out. If you do not succeed in 
this, take a silver or pewter tablespoon, bend it a little, and 
push it down the throat. Keep quite to the back of the 
throat, and you will do no harm. If there be a doctor 
near, send to him. But this is a case which admits of no 
delay, and the life hangs upon your coolness and quickness 
of action. 

If it be only a small substance in the throat, and the 
person can swallow, give plenty of bread or potato and 
a drink of water after it. If this is not sufficient, give a 
teaspoonful of mustard and warm water, or any other 
emetic you have at hand ; and after the person has vomit- 
ed, you will generally find it all right. If you do not 
succeed, send for a surgeon. 

SuNSTEOKE. — This is a sudden prostration due to long 
exposure to great heat, especially when one is much fatigued 
or exhausted. It commonly happens from undue exposure 
to the sun's rays in summer, but I have seen the same ef- 



PEOPLE BEING FROZEN. 77 

feet? produced in a baker from the great heat of the bake- 
room. It begins with pain in the head or dizziness, quickly 
followed by loss of consciousness and complete prostration. 
Sometimes, however, the attack is as sudden as a stroke of 
apoplexy. The head is often burning hot, the face dark 
and swollen, the breathing labored and snoring, and the 
extremities cold. Take the patient at once to a cool and 
shady place, but don't carry him far to a house or hospital. 
Loosen the clothes thoroughly about his neck and waist. 
Lay him down with the head a little raised. Apply wet 
cloths to the head, and mustard or turpentine to the 
calves of the legs and the soles of the feet. Give a little 
weak whiskey and water if he can swal low. Meanwhile let 
some one go for the doctor. You cannot safely do more 
than I have said without his advice. 



PEOPLE BEING FROZEN. 

Whether the whole body or only a part is aifected, the 
principle of the treatment is the same. 

Avoid a sudden change. If a person be found quite 
benumbed with cold, if you take him direct to a fire you 
may perhaps destroy life ; a barn, a shed, or a room, which 
feels very cold to you, is warm enough at first. Remove 
the clothes if wet, and rub the body dry, put him into blank- 
ets, and give a little warm wine and water, or weak spirit 
and water, or tea ; after a while, remove him to a warmer 
room, but still not near a fire, and so gradually increase 
the warmth. 

If you should ever be so situated in intensely cold weatli- 
er as not to be able to reach a place of shelter, and find 
your strength failing, look out for a snowdrift on the side 
of a hill away from the wind ; or if on a plain, try to find 
a hollow filled up with snow ; scrape a hole large enough 
for your body and creep into it, then you are comparative- 



78 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

ly safe : the snow will shelter you from the wind and keep 
you warm. Human beings and sheep have lain for days 
in this way, and been saved. But never forget the first 
warning of danger. If you feel a desire to sleep, and give 
way to it in the open country, it will be the sleep of 
death; you must keep in motion, however painful, or 
perish. 

But there is another efiect of cold, which is generally 
caused by standing or walking against a very cold wind, 
which is called being nipped. I have seen a person sud- 
denly seized with great pain in the bowels, drawn togeth- 
er with cramp, the hands so swollen as to require the gloves 
to be cut off, and with intense headache. The same treat- 
ment answers : gradual warmth, very small quantities of 
warm stimulants, and, after a while, hot flannel to the pain- 
ful parts. 

Frost Bites attack the extremities and projecting parts 
of the body, hands, feet, nose, ears. They are frequently 
so rapid and free from pain, that a person is not aware 
of anything being wrong. In Canada, when meeting a 
friend in the street, I have both given and taken the cau- 
tion, " Mind your nose, sir, it looks whitish." The blood, 
you know, when warm, is fluid, but when it is cold forms 
a solid clot — and you also know that when water or other 
liquid freezes, it expands, and so breaks water bottles and 
jugs, and it also becomes lighter. Now, precisely the same 
thing takes place in frost bites ; the blood in the part gets 
cold and runs slowly, then stops, all the little blood-ves- 
sels are choked and swollen, you apply heat and burst 
them, causing dreadful suffering and troublesome wounds ; 
or if you do nothing, the circulation is quite stopped, and 
the part dies or mortifies. 

Treatment. — Keep the person away from all heat ; if 
you can, get clean snow and rub the parts constantly with 
it ; or if you cannot find snow get the coldest water. Let 



CHILBLAINS. 79 

the patient himself rub if possible, for the exertion mil 
keep him sufficiently warm. You must continue this rub- 
bing for hours in severe cases, till you get the parts quite 
soft, and something near the natural color. You must not 
allow any complaints or feeling of compassion to stop your 
nibbing, or to cause you to bring him into a warm room. 
Put on extra clothing, or let him have a run for a minute, 
but do not come near a fire. After you have done this, 
anoint well with sweet oil or lard, or lime water and oil, 
and wrap up well with flannel. 

If you should have any sores, dress them the same as 
burns. We had one case on board a steamer, which hap- 
pily caused more amusement than suifering. The men 
were busy in the very dirty employment of removing ash- 
es. One of the engineers, being ofi'duty, had dressed him- 
self in his shore clothes ready for a walk. After standing- 
some time talking, one of the men noticed the white patch 
on his cheek, and instantly gathering a handful of snow, 
commenced rubbing vigorously. In his eagerness to ben- 
efit his friend, he had forgotten the state of his hands, till 
the snow began to melt, which gave a extraordinary mot- 
tled black and white look to the engineer's face, and lit- 
tle ink-like streams trinkled down his best clothes. 

Chilblains are in truth the same in every way as 
frost bites, but in a milder form. They are more troub- 
lesome than dangerous, though in persons of Aveak circu- 
lation, or if neglected, they cause sores which last through 
the winter. 

Prevention is better than cure. The only way to pre- 
vent them is to wear warm clothing on the hands and 
feet, keep up the circulation by exercise, and above all 
things not to bring them suddenly from cold to great 
heat. This is the whole secret of prevention. When 
they are formed, but not broken, rub well two or three 
times a day with equal parts of turpentine and laudanum, 



80 TILL THE DOCTOR COilES 

or equal parts of camphorated spirit and soap liniment, 
or sweet oil and spirits of turpentine, or with an oint- 
ment made of a teaspoonful of dry mustard and an ounce 
of lard. Any of these are good, but if the skin be bro- 
ken do not use them, but dress them just like a sore af 
ter a burn, or w^ith the old-fasliioned but excellent appli- 
cation of chalk and tallow; but it is not safe to use the 
grease of candles, as chemicals are so much used in mak- 
ing them, but take a little mutton tallow, melt it and 
while warm mix it with whiting till it is a proper thick- 
ness for use. Either of these will give almost immediate 
relief. 

BATHS, BATHING, ETC. 

Among these miscellaneous hints I may say a few 
words about baths and bathing. Cleanliness not only 
helps the doctor, but would often prevent the necessity 
of sending for him. " Cleanliness is next to godliness" 
is a very old saying. To speak of a dirty Christian seems 
a contradiction. It is better for the body, better for the 
soul, and better for those around us, to be clean. I do 
not mean to find fault with the small particles of Avhat a 
man works amongst which clings to him, such as coal to 
the collier, or iron-filings to the smith. That is not dirt, 
but merely the livery of his trade. If you reside in a 
large town you can have a bath for a trifle ; but if not, 
have a good scrub down or a swim whenever you havo 
the chance. 

Cold Bathing should not be used directly after a 
meal, nor when you are Avet with perspiration, nor with- 
out advice when you are ill. As soon as the bather be- 
gins to shiver, or the nails turn blue, it is time to stop. 
Always wet the head first, or as quickly as possible be- 
fore the feet get cold. In every case rub the skin after 
bathing till it is warm. 



USEFUL HINTS. 81 

The Shower Bath can be easily made by pouring 
water through a cullender held above the head by anoth- 
er person. But do not use it without advice, for it is a 
powerful remedy. 

A Vapor Bath is very useful in cutting short an at- 
tack of rheumatism or se"ere influenza cold ; and if ap- 
plied early, may prevent weeks of suffering, especially in 
grown-up people, and where there are no conveniences 
for a warm bath. Have the bed and body-linen ready, 
warm ; lay a bit of carpet on the floor ; let the patient 
sit on a chair with a wood or cane bottom ; fasten a large 
blanket round his neck, to reach well down to the floor ; 
place a bucket, two-thirds full of hot water under it; 
have ready two bricks hot in the fire ; put one into the 
bucket, and cover the patient well up with the blanket, 
like a small tent ; let no cold air get in ; if needful, put 
in the other brick, and in a short time you will have the 
skin streaming with perspiration ; rub dry with hot tow- 
els ; put on night-clothes, and then get to bed. 

A Warm Bath for a Child (not an Infant). — Fill 
a tub two-thirds full of warm water, so as not to flow 
over when the child is put in, and wrap the child in a 
small blanket — keep this on while in the bath to protect 
it from draughts of cold air. Mothers who have not 
tried this plan have no idea how it takes away fear from 
a young child, and adds to its comfort. In trying the 
heat of water, poultices or fomentations for a child, do 
not trust to your hand, which is hardened by exposure 
and work ; but to some part more sensitive, such as your 
arm or cheek. 

USEFUL HINTS. 

In any complaint where there is much perspiration do 
not go directly from a cold or frosty air to the bedside. 
lu Rheumatic Fever the skin of a patient is particular- 
4* 



82 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

ly sensitive, and you may cause a chill which may have a 
bad effect; better wait in another room for a few min- 
utes. There is no complaint which requires so much 
gentleness as this. A person in health can form no idea 
of the suffering. There is not only racking pain in every 
joint, but a dread of being touched, or of the slightest 
breath of air. Even when not within three or four feet 
of the patient, he will cry out to you not to tread upon 
him. The banging of a door, shutting a window down 
violently, letting anything fall, — all sudden noises must 
be carefully guarded against. 

In CHANGING THE DRESS of a patient suffering from 
rheumatism, or any sore on the arms or upper part of the 
body, there is often great and unnecessary distress caused 
by getting the arms in and out of the sleeves of the shirt 
or night-dress, or even a chemise, when fitted closely to 
the chest. If the nursing be likely to continue long, it 
adds very greatly to the comfort of both patient and at- 
tendant, to cut open the sleeves and one side of the gar- 
ment, and put on small strings of tape, just as is done 
with the sleeves of a man's coat when an arm is broken, 
but nearer together. Generally with a long sleeve the 
wristband may be left uncut, and the garment not opened 
lower than the waist, but this must be determined by the 
requirements of the case. In cases of extreme debility, 
where it is not safe for the patient to be raised even for a 
moment, all risk and inconvenience may be avoided by 
cutting open both the dress which is in wear, and the 
frosh one, and lifting the patient on to it just as is done 
in changing the bed-clothes. This plan does not destroy 
or injure the clothes in any way, it is merely the seams 
which require to be ripped, and they can be sewn again 
for ordinary use. 

Any one who has seen Leeches used knows how dif- 
ficult it is sometimes to get them to bite readily ; and the 



USEFUL HINTS. 83 

old nurses can tell you how they seemed to be possessed 
with a spirit of contradiction. They will either refuse to 
bite at all, or will fasten anywhere but on the desired spot. 
All sorts of instructions are given in books, but most of 
them are useless. A leech partakes to some extent of 
the nature of a fish, that is, it lives in water; and there- 
fore, instead of holding them in a Avarm hand or a dry 
towel, act in this way : — First wash the place perfectly 
clean, then put your leeches into a wineglass, and fill it 
with water; put a piece of paper over it, turn the glass 
upside down on to the place where you want them to fix, 
and draw the paper away ; you will find now that the 
leeches being in their native element, are cool and com- 
fortable, and will settle instantly, thereby saving a great 
amount of vexation and loss of time. As soon as they 
have taken hold, place a towel round the glass to soak 
up the water, and remove it. In this way you get them 
exactly where you wish, either all on one spot or distrib- 
uted over a larger space, by putting on only one or two 
at a time. If you require one on a very particular spot, 
for instance, close to the eye, and have not a proper leech- 
glass, put its tail first into a small narrow phial filled 
with water. Where they have to be used inside the 
mouth, nostrils, etc., it is better to pass a needleful of 
thread through the tail to hold by ; it will not prevent 
them biting ; and if one should be swallowed, drink a lit- 
tle salt and water, which is poisonous to them. Leeches 
are always expensive, but with a little care they need not 
be destroyed. When they come off do not dip them in- 
to salt ; put them into a large jar of water, with an inch 
or two of turf or garden soil; change the water every 
day for the first week, then once a week will be sufficient ; 
in this way they will clear themselves and recover. Any 
dead ones must be removed, or they will spoil the water 
and destroy the others. 




84 TILL THE DOCTOK COMES. 

There is a secret in handling a broken or sore 
LIMB. Never take hold with the points of the fingers as 
if you were afraid of it, and keep your patient in fear 
lest you should let it fall. Take a firm grasp, let tlie 
limb rest on the palm of your hand, and support it with 
your thumb and fingers. All shaking, nervous handling 
of a limb is misery to the sufferer. In the case of bones 
being broken, it is better to place one hand below and 
the other above the fracture to keep it level. For these 
and many other cases you require what surgeons call a 
cradle to support the weight of the bed- 
clothes. Any handy man can make 
\\^ one with two straight pieces of wood, 
and two or three hoops off a flour barrel. 
Some people are very subject to Sore Throat, and 
where it has once happened, a slight cause is sufiicient to 
bring it on again, and if neglected it frequently runs on 
to ulceration. You may almost always check this, if at the 
very commencement you apply a wet bandage in this way : 
Take a piece of linen or calico the breadth of four fingers 
and three or four feet long, dip this into cold water, then 
squeeze it gently and apply it round the neck, cover with 
a fold or two of flannel or a woollen stocking, and let it 
be kept on all night. And for a gargle you will find the 
following very valuable : — Put into a jug a handful of dry 
sage leaves, two tablespoonfuls of salt, four tablespoon- 
fuls of vinegar, and one teaspoonful of cayenne pepper ; 
pour upon these a pint of boiling water, cover up close, 
and after standing half an hour, pour clear off through 
a bit of muslin into a bottle. 

I wish now to draw the attention of all who are try- 
ing how to help the doctor, to the subject of the first 
w^ALK after serious illness. This is a far more im])ort- 
ant matter than it appears to be. It would be quite safe 
to say, that in ninety cases out of every hundred it is 



USEFUL HINTS. 85 

ovei-done, and the patient made worse instead of better, 
for the very simple reason that there is no thought of the 
fatigue of coming back again. The usual plan is for the 
patient to walk away from the house till he feels tired, 
then turn towards home, where he arrives faint and ex- 
liausted. Never forget this simple truth: every step ta- 
ken by an invalid after he is fatigued does injury. There- 
fore, when you are out with a patient for the first walk, 
instead of saying to him, "Do you feel tired now?" say, 
" How tired will you be wben you have done this over 
again?" 

When a patient is mfficiently well to sit up in hed^ a 
shawl is very inconvenient. The ends dip into the food, 
and are constantly irritating the patient by getting on to 
the bit of work going on. Then, again, it must be either 
fastened so tightly round the body as to confine the arms, 
or if they are used, it must be raised so that both they 
and the chest are exposed. Instead of this, I would strongly 
recommend an article I have for many years used amongst 
my own patients, that is a flannel jacket, made very loose 
about the shoulders and arms and to button from the neck 
down the front and at the wrists. The neck and wrist- 
bands should be lined with silk or other soft material so 
as not to chafe the skin. Let there be two good pockets, 
one for the handkerchief and the other for the spectacles, 
eye-glass, pencil, thimble, and other small things which 
are always going astray. The season of the year, the 
kind of room, and nature of the illness, will guide you as 
to the warmth, and your means as to quality. This is 
quite a distinct thing from the common long dressing- 
gown used when a person is out of bed. If you use 
quite new flannel, it should be well washed with hot wa- 
ter and soap before being made up, or the smell may be 
very ofiensive to a person confined to bed. 

Scarcely a week passes without some life being lost by 



86 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

having either wrong medicine given or an improper 
dose, or some liniment, lotion, or poisonous disinfecting 
fluid, instead of medicine. And therefore, in every case 
where you undertake to help the doctor, see that the la- 
bles on the bottles are distinctly written, and that you 
know without any doubt which is to be swallowed. It is 
too late after an accident to say you did not understand. 
If, unfortunately, the helper cannot read, let her learn by 
the smell which is the ruhhing bottle, and keep it separate 
from the medicine. If any medicines be left when an ill- 
ness is over, let them be destroyed. I do not mean sim- 
ples such as you make yourselves, but powders, mixtures, 
and other things sent from the apothecary's. It is quite 
right to be economical, but not in these matters. I once 
knew a lady of a saving turn of mind who used to say, 
" Physic is physic, and if it does good to one, why not to 
another ?" and when any fresh case of sickness occurred 
would insist upon the old stock being used up before buy- 
ing any more. I need scarcely point out to you the folly 
of such conduct. Supposing you could ensure it being 
good, which you cannot do, for even exposure to light 
will alter some drugs ; you could not tell if in any partic- 
ular case it would be suitable ; or if the label be rubbed 
off and you merely guess at the quantity to be given, you 
may commit a serious mistake. Let all bottles which 
have contained mixtures be emptied and both them and 
the corks Avashed carefully with hot water and a little 
soap, then dried and put away for future use. 

Particularly ought you to be cautious not to leave 
them in the way of children ; and never trust to their be- 
ing safe because of having a disagreeable taste. No one 
would suppose there was anything tempting in the flavor 
of a common lucifer match, and yet we have had several 
cases of poisoning by children sucking the '^nds of them. 
Only a few days before this was written, a boy who had 



USEFUL HINTS. 87 

frequently watched his mother administering physic, 
caused the death of his younger sister by giving her a tea- 
cupful of turpentine, and another has lost his own life 
by drinking sulphuric acid. When following out the di- 
rections of the doctor, be particular even in what you may 
consider little things — little only to you, remember, be- 
cause you do not see the reason for them. For instance, 
he will direct you when giving some powders to mix 
them with sugar and not with preserve, because he knows 
that the acid in preserve would destroy the medicine. 
In another case he will direct you to keep from your pa- 
tient all bread, and almost every description of vegetable 
— to feed him almost entirely on animal food. You will 
think this very unnatural — true, it ifl so — but so is the 
complaint, and requires an unnatural diet; and in this 
particular disease, the chance of recovery depends not 
upon drugs, but on the faithfulness with regard to diet in 
those to whom is entrusted the important question of how 
to help the doctor. 



CAUTIONS AGAINST COMMON ERRORS. 

I find a very common error amongst ignorant people 
is to suppose that all medicine ought to act as a purgative, 
that is, to open the bowels ; indeed, they cannot believe 
that it is likely to do any good if it does not do so. I re- 
member once seeing a patient with a severe chest com- 
plaint. The doctor, who had seen her before, remarked 
that she was very much better. " Indeed !" said her moth- 
er, "I don't see what could make her better, for the pills 
you ordered have done nothing." 

I mention this for two reasons : first, that this is quite 
a mistake, for in many cases it would take away the pa- 
tient's chance of recovery ; and, secondly, to v>^arn you 
agamst the foolish, expensive, and injurious habit many pec 



88 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

pie have of taking quantities of aperient pills and other 
drugs. Few of you are aware of the number of lives lost 
by strong, hurtful medicines. I have myself seen a man 
die, after being a few hours in the hospital, whose history 
is worth recording. He told us, that when he first felt ill, 
he read a description of some wonderful pills, which were 
to do great things for him ; he took at first only two at a 
time, but soon found that he was obliged to continue tak- 
ing them, and constantly increasing the number, till, when 
I saw him, his regular dose was sixteen pills every second 
night. By that time nature could stand against the abuse 
no longer, and he died. 

Some years ago I met with an educated lady, who 
recommended some pills very highly, and as she expressed 
it (and thereby let out the secret), " Indeed, I could not 
live without them ; I have used them for a long time, and 
now take forty-two twice a week regularly !" If you read 
carefully some of the advertisements of these wonderful 
quack medicines, you must see that they cannot possibly 
be true. According to them all diseases arise from one 
cause, and if you only take their medicine you will soon 
be in perfect health ; in other words, you need never be 
ill, and never die but of old age. In some new countries 
where the inhabitants are very widely scattered, and no 
doctor can be found within a day's journey, there may 
be some excuse for buying what are called patent medi- 
cines, but not in any part of the country where good ad- 
vice may easily be had. 

In the same way, never consult a doctor who is obliged 
to publish his wonderful skill and cures in a newspay^r. 
Depend upon it, if a doctor be clever and understands his 
profession as he ought to do, people will find it out with- 
out any newspaper advertisement. 

It is astonishing how careless some people are in tak- 
mg dangerous medicines. I was once called in to a gen- 



CACTTIONS AGAINST COMIVION ERKOKS. 89 

tleman, forty years of age, whom I found lying on the 
floor in a most pitiable state, vomiting, purging blood, with 
fearful cramps and pains. I could obtain no information 
as to the cause of attack ; he had been at the office as usu- 
al, and walked home a distance of three miles. After 
adopting suitable treatment for several hours, I left him 
very much relieved, and the next day he was sufficiently 
restored to give me the history of the affiiir. He said, " I 
was in my usual health, but a little bilious, and thought 
a dose of calomel would do me good. I called at a confec- 
tioner's and bought an ounce of calomel lozenges ; as I came 
out I asked, ' v/hat strength ?' ' One grain,' answered the 
lady ; so I kept taking them all the way. I had not tak- 
en any food since morning. After being at home about 
two hours, I was seized with horrible pains, and was dying 
when you came and saved me. That's all I can tell you 
about it." "Now," I said, " let me see the lozenges you 
have left." When I examined them I found each one 
stamped " calomel, one grain." By having the remainder 
weighed, I found that during his long walk he had eaten 
fourteen of them. Here is an instance of an educated man 
filling a high station under Government, taking this fright- 
ful quantity of a powerful drug without first ascertaining 
whether each lozenge was sufficient for a dose, or whether 
tbs whole ounce was to be taken, which he supposed was 
the case. 

Have full confidence in your doctor ; never attempt to 
deceive him, lor he is almost sure to find it out, and will 
certainly not respect you for it. Do not be content with 
simply telling the truth, and nothing but the truth, but 
tell him the whole truth. I once asked a lady, who had 
then only two more days to live, what quantity of brandy 
she took in a day. She said, " Tliree wineglassfuls ;" this 
was the truth, and nothing but the truth, but it was very 
far from being the whole truth, for she had thirteen ! 



90 TILL THE DOCTOK COMES. 

Do not forget that you are infinitely more obliged to 
the doctor for spending years of toil and study, for leav- 
ing his home at all hours, and exposing himself and family 
to the danger of infection, than he can be to you. Even 
though you should not be in a position to pay him in 
money, yet you can cheer him on his way by showing him 
a thankful, grateful spirit. 

We are told in the Bible that " the spirit of a man wUl 
sustain his infirmity ;" be careful, then, to do all in your 
power to keep up that spirit : be cheerful, be hopeful, be 
trustful. Let your motto be, " Never despair," for in most 
cases while there is life there is hope. Give the patient 
every opportunity of recovering by following out all the 
directions of the doctor, not only by doing and giving, 
but what is far more difficult, by not doing and not giv- 
ing, but each in its proper place. 



HOW TO HELP WITH AN INFANT. 

A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a mes- 
senger of peace and. love. The young husband walks 
about with his head some inches higher than usual, and 
feeling proud and big with his newly-acquired title of 
father. The young wife is smiling through her tears with 
the joy of having become a mother. Baby has arrived, 
exactly like its mother, and the very image of its father, 
and. the doctor says " It's a bonny little thing, sound wind 
and limb," and he hopes it will be a comfort to them. 

Now what are we to do with it, the most helpless of 
all young creatures ? What is done with it every day ? 
First it is washed, then some spirits is rubbed on its head, 
one or two caps, and perhaps some flannel are put on, and 
it is dressed. Then, of course, it must begin life by tak- 
ing some sort of physic, either castor oil and sugar, or 
butter and sugar made into a thick paste ; shortly after 



DRESSING. 91 

this it is laid on its back, and some gruel is poured down 
its throat, and it is put to bed : but alas ! not to sleep. In 
a little while it begins to cry, and it is so uneasy that 
something has to be given to make it sleep, or there wil' 
be no rest either for itself or others. If it has been suffi- 
ciently crammed, and unfortunately has not been sick, it 
is very likely to have a convulsive fit, and after a hart/ 
day's work the doctor will be roused out of bed to find it 
suffering misery from all this interfering with nature, or 
to find it already gone where thousands of infants have 
been sent before it. Now all this is an abomination : it is 
ignorance and cruelty, and it does not make it one whit 
less so for the helper to say she did it out of kindness : it 
is inflicting pain upon both mother and child when there 
is no occasion for it. 

Now let an old physician, who loves children and has 
watched over hundreds of them, plead for these helpless 
little ones. Let me tell you a few plain truths. There is 
no oil nor any other medicine needed for an infant that 
has a mother to suckle it. The first supply of milk is pur- 
gative, and quite diiferent from what comes afterwards. 
No infant requires food the first twenty-four hours ; no in- 
infant ever died for want of food the first day of its exist- 
ence, but hundreds have died from over-feeding. And I 
need not say give no spirit or soothing mixture, for if you 
do not abuse its stomach, but have faith and leave it to 
nature, you will not require any. 

As to the dressing, there is almost always suflicient 
notice for you to prepare the things, and with very little 
trouble, a few tapes and a needleful of cotton, you may 
do away with the dangerous practice of using pins. You 
will, perhaps, think this caution not required, but if you 
had seen as many torn limbs and deep scratches in an in- 
fant as I have, you would not think so. Only this last 
month there was an instance of a child who was very rest* 



92 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

less and uneasy, and who would, if a little older, havo 
been scolded and punished for being cross, and on careful 
examination a broken needle more than an inch long was 
found in its side, which would have gone through had it 
not been turned aside by a rib, and there it had lain for a 
month. No. Wash the little stranger with lukewarm 
water and soap, and dry the skin well, use no spirit, fasten 
the clothes on not too tightly with strings or a needleful 
of cotton. It is better not to have any cap, for the border 
is very apt to tickle and rub the face ; but if you must have 
one , let it be as thin and light as possible. Give it nothing / 
or if you cannot resist the temptation, let it have occasion- 
ally a teaspoonful of milk and warm water not too sweet, 
till the proper supply comes ; but no oil, no butter, no 
gruel, no spirit, no mess of any kind, but with its body 
clean and its tiny breath sweet and pure, lay it in its 
proper warm nest, the place which God has appointed for 
it, and child, mother, and nurse will have a calm, quiet 
sleep, such as all the drugs in the world cannot give, but 
which you may almost always enjoy, if you will exercise 
good plain common sense when you are trying how to help 
the doctor. 

It is quite possible that as the infant grows, particu- 
larly if it be what the nurses call " a hungry child," it 
may require a little artificial food, for if it drains off the 
nourishment from its mother's breast so constantly that 
the milk has not time to be properly formed, it becomes 
thin and watery. The consequence is that it passes almost 
directly through the stomach, and the child is never sat- 
isfied. This comes very hard upon the mother. In this 
case it is better to help both mother and child. I do not 
know any thing so good for this purpose as biscuit pow- 
der, which you can get ready ground at the flour dealer's, 
or if not, all you have to do is to get a good sound com- 
mon biscuit without any butter or flavor of any kind. If 



KOCKING THE CRATH.B. 93 

you are near a seaport town, the captain's biscuit is ex- 
act) y what you want. Rub a bit of this fine and simmer 
it in water tiH quite smooth, than add milk till it is the 
thickness of good cream, and sweeten a little. If you 
give two or three teaspoonfuls of this just before he takes 
his natural food, it will give it sufficient body to be satis- 
fying, and do the child no harm. I prefer this to almost 
any artificial food, and have used it for thirty years ; 
but for a change, bread, sago, arrowroot, and other things 
may be substituted. It, is not of so much consequence 
which you use as how you use them, only be guided by 
this fact — that a child's natural food is milk, and if you 
give anything much thicker than this, you will do harm. 

It is a mistake to suppose that every time a child cries 
it is hungry. The only way an infant can ask for anything 
is by crying. It may have pain in its limbs from being 
cramped up too long in one position, or from a hard 
crumb, or a pin, or from illness ; but as yet it has no 
power to use words ; it can only, by crying, say it wants 
something, and it is the duty of those about it to find out 
what. 

NoAV allow me to say a few words about habits. No 
one who has actually proved it has any idea how very 
early in life an infant can be taught a habit, particularly 
cleanliness, by a slight amount of trouble and regular at- 
tendance every day. If any young wife should read this, 
let me assure her that this is " not one of those impos- 
sible things that are all very well in books, but no one 
ever thinks of doing." Let her only try it, and she will 
soon be convinced. I have seen infants only a few months 
old, who gave no more trouble than a child three years 
•»ld, except, of course, requiring assistance. 

About rocking the cradle. It is foolish to teach a 
!hild to expect you to work at the cradle when it goes to 
sleep ; it occupies time, and does the child no good. The 



94 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

next liabit is even worse, that is, teaching the child to 
compel you to walk about with it till it chooses to fall 
asleep, and then to put it to bed without awakening it, 
which you may try to do five or six times without suc- 
ceeding, and each time have to begin your walk again. 
Begin as you intend to go on. Lay it down awake, and 
if nature requires it, sleep will come, and if not, no rock- 
ing will force it ; but this must be taught from the very 
beginning. A healthy infant ought to sleep twenty hours 
out of the twenty-four, during its first month, which it 
will do without any rocking, and it is a great pity for you 
to teach it anything difierent. 

Never give an infant cold castor oil, it is too thick 
and sticky ; put it with an equal quantity of milk into a 
teacup, add a little sugar, and warm it ; it will then be 
quite fluid ; stir it well, and the child will take it with- 
out difficulty. When a child is cutting teeth, there is 
always some feverishness and irritation. If the bowels 
be a little relaxed, do not be in any hurry to interfere ; 
but if this requires to be checked, do not fly to soothing 
syrup, infants' preservatives, paregoric, or laudanum ; they 
are nearly all dangerous — one drop of laudanum has kill- 
ed an infant. Try the following simple remedy first, and 
if it does not answer, consult a doctor : Take a large 
teacupful of fine flour, tie it up as tightly as you can in a 
cloth, and boil it for four hours ; then hang it uj^ in a 
warm room till it is dry. You will find now that the out- 
side is quite hard, like the shell of a cocoanut ; break some 
of this off*, and scrape out from the inside as much as you 
require ; boil this in milk till it is the thickness of cream, 
sweeten a little, and feed the child with it for a day or two. 

When the teeth are coming through the gums, do not 
give the child any hard substance to chew, such as coral 
or ivory, which breaks the enamel off" the points and 
makes them decay ; the best thing is india-rubber, which 



THETJSH AND TOOTH HASH. 95 

you can get at the druggists' or lubber shops; before 
using it the first time wash it with warm water, and rub 
it over with a little molasses or sugar ; you will find this 
a great comfort to the child, and it is perfectly safe. A 
child may not need animal food till it has teeth to chew 
it with, but during the second summer meat is essential 
to its welfare, and should be given in preference to the 
starchy things so much in vogue. 

A very frequent complaint of infants is the Thrush 
or " frog." The mouth is lined with white spots, exactly 
like fine curds of milk ; and though in this stage it may 
not do the child much harm, it must not be allowed to 
run on. The usual remedy is borax and honey. A much 
better one is equal parts of borax, saltpetre, and loaf 
sugar, rubbed well together ; a small pinch put into the 
child's mouth three times a day. Keep it in a dry place. 
Or you may dissolve a quarter of an ounce of chlorate of 
potash in two thirds of a tumbler of warm water and use 
it as a mouth wash. 

A child is during teething subject also to an eruption 
of small red spots, which the nurses call Tooth eash. A 
few doses of calcined magnesia will generally set this 
right. When the gums are swollen, very red, and pain- 
ful, you should let your doctor see them ; they may re- 
quire to be lanced. There is not the slightest doubt that 
when this is done in proper cases and at the proper time, 
it will save a child from days and nights of suffering, and 
from convulsions', but great comfort can be given by 
Bimply rubbing the gums gently with a finger and the 
least morsel of butter, and giving a dose of cooling medi- 
cine. If convulsions should occur, put the little one's 
feet into hot mustard and water till the skin is quite red ; 
give a dose of purgative medicine ; apply cold water to 
the head ; and send for your doctor. 

Never frighten a child by mentioning the doctor in 



96 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. » 

jiny ^vay as a punishment ; one would think that a mo- 
ment's reflection would convince any j^erson of the ex- 
treme folly of doing this. How can a physician find out 
the true state of a child's pulse, or breathing, or the 
countenance when the poor little thing is trembling with 
fear ? I was once attending a little girl about four years 
of age, and as usual we got on very well together ; but 
after some days the child would not come to me, but was 
so nervous and agitated that I could do no good. On 
making inquiry, I found that her mother had told her 
that if she did not do as she bid her, the doctor would 
come and " cut her head off." Of course the child be- 
lieved her own mother, and therefore no wonder she 
looked upon me with horror. After a Avhile I succeeded 
in restoring confidence. I told her I would come to see 
her when she was ill, nay, even if she had some dreadful 
fever, when others could not come to her, I would never 
forsake her, and so on. Young as she was, she very soon 
discovered that her mother had told her an untruth. Now, 
instead of holding up the doctor as a bugbear to terrify 
a child, try to impress upon it that he comes on a visit of 
mercy, then it will be calm and trustful, and the doctor 
will have a better chance of restoring his patient to 
health. 

It is dreadful to hear of the abominable cruelty prac- 
ticed on poor helpless children by the stupid ignorance 
of some parents. How often do they get a blow or get 
punished when they ought to have medicine and careful 
nursing ! I say nothing here of the numbers of innocents 
overlain and otherwise killed by drunken mothers — their 
name is legion — but from stupidity and want of common 
thought. Look at this case, which has just been published 
in the newspapers. A boy is taken into a yard naked, 
and buckets of cold water poured over him; is beaten 
every day, kept without food, not allowed a bed to lie 



WORMS. 97 

on, chained to a post, and other cruelties, till he is nearly 
dead. And why ? Because he was not clean in liis habits. 
When he was taken to the hospital, it was found that the 
poor little thing had been suffering for months from a 
very painful disease, which made it impossible for him to 
act as a child in health would do, and which without the 
brutality of his father would have destroyed him in a few 
days had he not been rescued. 

When taking an infant out, and you require to shade 
its face from the sun or wind, be careful that the hand- 
kerchief, or whatever you use, does not touch the face. 
Few people are aware what a slight thing will suffocate a 
child if its hands be fastened so that it cannot use them. 
A very fine child lost its life in this way not very long 
since. A silk handkerchief was thrown over its face, and 
the wind blew it against the mouth and nose ; so that 
every time the infant gasped for air, it sucked in the 
handkerchief still closer, and as it could not cry, there 
was nothing to arouse its mother, till on her arrival at 
home she found it dead. 

One of the common ailments of children is Worms. 
If you notice a child grinding its teeth, rubbing its nr^^a, 
and otherwise complaining of itching, and the apptdioe 
uncertain, your suspicions may fairly be aroused, but the 
only positive evidence of worms is in finding them in the 
child's evacuations. They sometimes cause serious ill- 
ness, which is known as " worm fever." You may pre- 
vent this by a little timely attention, without giving them 
the common worm cakes, and such like remedies, which 
nearly all contain calomel. For a child about four years 
old, make a tea as follows: — Get half an ounce oi pink- 
root and a quarter of an ounce of senna and of fennel 
Put a pint of boiling water on them and give a table- 
spoonful three times a day. 

Do not be anxious to make an infant stand or icalk too 
5 



98 TILL THE DOCTOR COMES. 

early. Because one child walks at a certain age, it ia no 
reason wYij another should; it must depend upon the 
strength and fitness of the child to do it. When the 
bones and muscles are sufficiently strong, the child will 
start of its own accord ; and if you force it before this 
time, you run great risk of having the limbs bent. It is 
perhaps as well for you to know that there is a disease in 
which the bones remain soft, and bend under the weight 
of a child, for years. 

Mothers frequently suffer a good deal of anxiety from 
a child having swallowed a marble or coiii ; but it is very 
seldom there are any bad effects. The best plan is to 
give the food a little more solid than usual, and no purga- 
tive medicine. It is very surprising how sharp-pointed 
articles are swallowed and find their way not only 
through the stomach, but through the substance of the 
body till they reach the surface. I have removed a nee- 
dle from the arm of a young woman, who swallowed it 
seven years before. 

Do not apply a blister to a child without advice, and 
if ordered by a doctor, be particular to remove it at the 
proper time ; if left too long, it may cause serious trouble. 
Bear in mind that the effect of a fly blister goes on long 
after it is taken off. If you are obliged to use anything 
of the sort, mustard is safer and quicker. 

It sometimes happens when people, but particularly 
children, are ill of some serious disease, when it is at the 
crisis, or what is called " at the turn," they take some odd 
fancy in the way of food ; they will ask for some articles 
quite out of the common way, perhaps something which 
you are not aware they have ever tasted. In these cases 
I have always found it better to let a child have it, even 
at some trouble and expense. I look upon it as a craving 
of nature, for they not only enjoy it, but live upon it for 
days; then when it has done the particular work for 



USEFUL niNTS. 99 

which It was intciuled, the child takes a dislike to it, and 
will not touch it again. There are two cautions to be ob- 
served here— first, this must not be confounded with the 
fanciful appetite of a disordered stomach, where a dozen 
different things are asked for in the day, and not one of 
thon.1 eaten ; and second, it is well to mention it to the doc- 
tor who is watching over the child, so that he may suit 
his treatment to the particular article taken, if he approves 
of it. One of the cravings of an invalid is for water. I 
have great faith in water. There is nothing wliich the 
most skilful nurse can make which is relished so much as 
pure, cold, fresh water ; and unless there be some espe- 
cial reason against it, there should be no limit. It should 
not be brought into the sick room in a large quantity and 
left there till it becomes warm and flat, but renewed con- 
stantly. 

Remember that one great difference between a grown- 
up person and a child is this— an adult has a natural dread 
of death, and in many cases a far greater dread of the af- 
ter ' death," and will therefore submit to any treatment, 
however painful, if likely to preserve life ; whereas a child 
has no fear of death, but has a dread of present pain. When 
children are not too weak to bear it, we should do all we 
can to amuse them — a few toys, pictures, a pair of scissors 
and some paper to cut up, a doll, a slate and pencil, or if 
there be a pet bird or any small animal, let it come in the 
room occasionally — anything which will occupy the mhid, 
cheer the spirits, and give the little one the best possible 
chance of lecovery. 



MANUAL OF NUESING 



PREPARED 



FOR THE TRAINING SCHOOL FOR NURSES ATTACHEE 
TO BELLEVUE HOSPITAL 



NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 AND 29 West 230 Street 



Copyright 

1878 

By G. P. Putnam's Sons 



I 



PREFACE. 



■]V"0 one in writing a book on nursing could 

fail to use some of the ideas of Florence 

Nightingale in her ''Notes on Nursing," and as 

Miss Lee's delightful book on "Hospital Sisters" 

has been read and re-read by us, we naturally 

have borrowed some of her good directions. 

We received most cordial permission from 

Zepherina Veitch (Mrs. Henry Smith), the author 

of "A Handbook for Nurses," and from Dr. 

Edward J. Domville, who wrote a "Manual for 

Hospital Nurses," to use these admirable books 

in the compilation of our manual. Use has also 

been made of Moffat's "Manual of Instruction for 

Nurses." 

We feel indebted to Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi 

[iii] 



iv pheface. 

for her kindly interest, and also to Dr. Victoria 
White, to whom really belongs the credit of 
editing and compiling this manual. Our one 
wish is that it may prove useful to those who 
are earnestly studying to become good and effio 
ient nurses. 

For the Committee of the Training 
School for Nurses attached to 
Bkllevitb Hospital, New York, 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

QUALIFICATIONS OP A NURSE. 

PAGB 

Duties of a nurse to herself.— Instruction for nurses, . . 1 
CHAPTER II. 

HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 

Care of ward. — Cleanliness. — Beds and bedding. — Ventila- 
tion and temperature. — Disinfectants and deodorizers. 
— Prevention of the spread of contagious diseases, . 13 

CHAPTER III. 

OBSERVATION OP THE SICK. 

Undressing patients. — Washing patients. — Dressing pa- 
tients. — Feeding patients. — Passive exercise, . . 99 

CHAPTER IV. 

ADMINISTRATION OP MEDICINES. 

Enemata. — Hypodermic injections. — Passing the catheter, . Sd 

[V] 



vi CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

APPLICATIONS. 

PAGH 

Dry heat. — Moist heat. — Poultices. — Inhalation. — Spray. 
— Cold. — Leeches. — Cupping. — Blisters. — Lotions. — 
Liniments, 44 



CHAPTER VL 

DRESSING OP WOUNDS, 

Apparatus generally employed in dressing. — The dressing- 
tray. — Removing dressings, — Kinds of dressings. — 
Bandages, 57 

CHAPTER VII. 

OPERATIONS. 

Preparation of room, — Operating table. — Patient before 
operation. — After operation. — Important points in 
special operations. — Amputations. — Excision and resec- 
tion of joints, — Hernia. — Lithotomy, — Lithotrity. — 
Ovariotomy. — Cleft palate, — Tracheotomy, ... 67 

CHAPTER VIII. 

SOME POINTS IN REGARD TO SPECIAL MEDICAL CASES. 

Fevers. — Eruptive fevers. — Bed-sores. — Prevention and 

treatment 75 

CHAPTER IX. 

EMERGENCIES. 

Articles often required. — Preparation of bed. — Fractures. — 
Hemorrhage. — Insensible patient. — Delirious patient. — 
Faintness. — Burns. — Stings and bites, — Foreign bodies. 
—Sunstroke. — Convulsions. — Poisons, .... 80 



CONTENTS. vii 

CHAPTER X. 

MONTHLY NURSING. 

PAOK 

Preparation of the room and of the patient.— Pains. — Care 
of patient during hibor. — After-care of the mother. — 
Care of the child. — Hemorrhage. — What the nurse may 
do in the absence of the physician. — Care of the feeble 
child. — Care of the breasts. — Artificial feeding of child. 
—Sleep, 92 

CHAPTER XI. 

NURSING OF SICK CHILDREN. 

First signs of illness in a child. — Cries of a child. — Pain, how- 
manifested. — Expression of the face. — Posture and 
movements. — Skin. — Warm bath, how given. — Some 
points in regard to fever. — Eruptive diseases. — Measles. 
— Scarlet fever. — Important points in diseases of the 
lungs and air passages. — Diphtheria. — Croup. — Inflam- 
mation of the lungs or air passages. — Diseases of the 
stomach and bowels. — Diarrhoea. — Constipation. — Dis- 
eases of the nervous system. — Convulsions. — St. Vitus' 
dance. — Paralysis. — ^Diseases of nutrition. — Rickets. — 
Consumption, 115 

HYGIENE OP CHILDREN. 

Diet. — Air. — Exercise. — Clothing. — Baths. — Sleep, . . 131 
CHAPTER XII. 

COOKERY FOR THE SfCK, . . .136 



Weights and Measures, 140 

Important Things for a Nurse to Remember When 

She Goes to a Private Case, 141 



MANUAL OF NURSING 



CHAPTER I. 

QUALIFICATIONS OF A NURSE. 

TT was not very long ago that the work of nursing the 
sick was considered to belong to those who were 
incapacitated by age, feebleness, or blighted hopes, for 
the more active duties of life. But in these latter days 
let the sick take courage. This forlorn train of sick- 
room spectres is disappearing before the bands of the 
young and hopeful, to whom life has not lost its charm, 
who are ready to devote themselves in their youth and 
strength to this work of humanity. It is no light task 
that they are willing to perform. There is, perhaps, no 
calling in life which demands a more constant exercise 
of all the Christian virtues than that of nursing the sick. 
Those who contemplate devoting themselves to this 
work should consider well that fatigue and discomfort 
are inseparable from the lot of the nurse. They should 
also bear in mind the many calls that will be made upon 
their patience, forbearance and kindness. Those who 
1 [1] 



2 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

would have the control of others must ever preserve the 
most perfect self-control, and behind this self-control, 
there must be firm principle. Any manifestation of tem- 
per on the part of the nurse is inexcusable, no matter 
how trying the circumstance which occasioned it. No 
real -service which the nurse can render should be thought 
menial or disagreeable ; for the comfort and well-being 
of those in her charge constitute the one object for 
which she labors. 

In many cases a favorable result depends as much upon 
the faithfulness of the nurse as the skill of the physi- 
cian, and equally certain is it that an inefficient and care- 
less nurse will thwart the eiforts of the best physician. 

Truthfulness and honesty are necessary in one who is 
entrusted with the responsibilities which devolve upon 
the attendant of the sick. Habits of punctuality and 
order are all-important; if these are wanting there will 
be haste, distraction and much vexation of spirit which 
will re-act unfavorably upon all, and be fatal to the 
regular and systematic succession of duties, upon which 
the comfort of the sick so much depends. 

A nurse should observe most conscientious reticence 
with regard to anything of a personal or domestic char- 
acter, in the affairs of her patients, with which she may 
become acquainted. Nothing that can really affect the 
patient's interest must be withheld from the physician ; 
but beyond this, let the nurse refrain from speaking of 
her patient except in that general way which is remote 
from even the suspicion of gossip. 

The better the general education, the better the foun- 
dation for the professional training necessary to mak(> a 



QUALIFICATIONS OF A NUB8E, 8 

skilled nurse, and ample opportunity may be found for 
the use of even high intellectual attainments. A more 
intelligent interest in the work is thus insured which will 
conduce to the content and cheerfulness of the nurse, 
and so to the comfort and well-being of those under 
her care. Let it be remembered that the care which 
the nurse gives her patient will often decide the 
question of life or death, and her calling will then 
assume the dignity which really belongs to it. But, 
setting aside this question, is it a slight thing to be able 
to lessen the amount of human suffering ? The assur- 
ance that she can do this, the desire to do it most wisely 
and well, will lead the true nurse to qualify herself by 
careful study and practice for the best performance of 
her work. 

Good health is indispensable for the proper discharge 
of the duties of a nurse, which are always more or less 
arduous. Skillful fingers are very desirable, and activity 
without noise. 

The best age to begin the study of nursing is from 
twenty-five to thirty-five years ; it would be a very ex 
ceptional case in which it could be successfully com 
menced after the age of thirty-five. 

DUTIES OF A NUESE TO HEKSELF. 

Personal cleanliness. — To insure personal cleanliness 
a bath once a day is essential. It is a good plan for a 
nurse to take a cold sponge-bath in the morning, and to 
wash thoroughly with warm water at night. A nurse 
should always have clean hands, especial care being taken 



4 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

to cleanse them thoroughly with a disinfectant solution 
after dressing any wound. 

Dress. — The under linen should be changed entirely 
twice a week. The outer dress should be clean and neat, 
simply made of calico or some washable material. The 
dress should never be long enough to touch the floor, or 
be extended by crinoline. Aprons, cuffs, collars and 
caps, should be frequently changed. A nurse should not 
serve the meals of patients wearing the same apron as 
when she dressed wounds, &c. High-heeled boots are 
out of place in the sick-room. The hair should be 
plainly dressed, well combed up from the neck behind, 
with an absence of artificial pads or ornaments. 

Care of her own health. — While the nurse should be 
faithful and conscientious in the discharge of her duty 
to her patients, she should not forget that her own 
health demands that she should observe all possible 
hygienic regulations. 

It is important that the nurse have regular meals and 
regular sleep. As a rule, she should sleep seven or eight 
hours out of twenty-four. We have already spoken of 
the cold sponge-bath in the morning ; this is chiefly de- 
sirable for its tonic effect, the warm bath in the evening 
being recommended for cleansing purposes. With few 
exceptions, some portion of every day should be spent in 
the open air. Nurses are apt to get careless about these 
matters, partly because they do not realize their impor- 
tance, and partly because of the frequent difliculty at- 
tending their observation ; and when the health begins 
to suffer, they resort to the use of stimulants, hoping to 
keep up the strength by the use of strong tea and coffee, 



QUALIFICATIONS OF A NURSE. 5 

or alcoholic stimulants. This course is one which is 
most injurious to the health. Let the nurse but realize 
this, and she will find that with a little management she 
will usually be able to follow the above simple rules of 
hygiene. 

INSTRUCTION FOR NURSES. 

Until within a few years it has not been considered at 
all necessary that nurses should receive any training for 
their work, but now the attention which the subject 
demands is being given to it, and nursing is becoming 
the subject of special education. 

Duration of training. — Fully two years' time is neces- 
sary to enable one to become thoroughly skilled in the 
art of nursing. The usual course of instruction in the 
training school requires attention in three different direc- 
tions : First, to the proper condition of the room, as to 
light, warmth, air, cleanliness of bed, furniture, and all 
utensils ; Second, to the care of the sick themselves ; 
Third, to superintendence and household management. 

Candidates for admission should be taken on proba- 
tion for a month. During this time they will be ap- 
pointed to the commonest ward duties — making beds, 
dusting, attending to personal cleanliness of patients, 
preparing bandages, assisting the nurse in dressings and 
other necessary duties. 

If the month has been passed satisfactorily, the proba- 
tioner will then enter upon the regular course of training 
of the school, comprising instruction on various subjects 
connected with the special duties, elementary instruction 



6 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

in the anatomy of the human body, in physiology, with 
reference to a knowledge of the leading functions of the 
body, general instruction on medical and surgical topics, 
chemistry of common life, particularly of air, water and , 
food, on diet, and cookery for the sick. 



CHAPTER II. 

CONCERNING HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 

I^UPEEINTEN'DEN'T.—Fov the proper manage' 
ment of all that pertains to the care of the sick 
in a hospital, there must be one capable and responsible 
woman as Superintendent over the Avhole establishment, 
and all the nurses should be under her supervision in 
grades, according to their several abilities. The duties 
of the Superintendent will vary in different institutions, 
according to the size of the hospital and other arrange- 
ments. She will direct the instruction of the nurses, or 
have an assistant appointed for that purpose. 

Each ward should have a head nurse, and assistant 
nurses according to the number of the patients. 

Duties of head nurses. — The head nurse should always 
accompany the attending physician in his visits, and 
should know the condition of every patient under her 
care. She should know what patients are in need of 
special care and attention, and be sure that they want 
nothing. She should also know what patients are con- 
valescent, and able to assist in any light work of the 
ward, which knowledge she can only obtain from the 
physician. 

The diet of the patients will be prescribed by the 

[7J 



8 ■ A MANUAL OF NURSIKO. 

physician at the regular rounds, but the head nurse will 
see that these orders reach the proper authorities, and 
that any special diet is served to the patient at the ap 
pointed hours. 

She will see that the medicines are administered as 
prescribed. 

She will daily inspect the ward closets, making sure 
that all utensils are faultlessly clean, and that there are 
no hiding-places for soiled linen or old bandages. 

She will see that the ward supplies of basins, towels, 
urinals, soft rags, lint, soap, bandages and disinfectants 
are not wanting, reporting any deficiency to the appro- 
priate person. 

She will instruct her assistants in making beds, airing 
beds and bedding, and in removing at once all soiled 
linen from the ward, consigning it to the ai^pointed 
place. 

She will arrange the order and method of the ward 
work. 

The temperature and ventilation of the ward will re- 
ceive her special attention. 

The night nurses will be appointed by the Superinten- 
dent. 

Mequirements of nurses.-^ThQ nurses will be required 
from time to time to make a written report of certain 
cases in which are noted the pulse, temperature, respira- 
tion, kind and amount of nutriment taken, and hours of 
the same, hours at which medicines have been adminis- 
tered, character of evacuations, with observation of any 
changes which have been noticed in the condition of the 
patient. 



CONCERNING HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 9 

They will be examined as occasion requires, that their 
theoretical knowledge of the branches which they are 
studying may be tested, as well as their skill in bandag- 
ing, and in the use of the various appliances of the sick 
room. 

CARE OF WARDS. 

Cleanliness. — The wards of a hospital must be kept 
absolutely free from dust. The dust of a ward is made 
up of organic impurities and the germs of disease, hence 
the importance of its careful and thorough removal. To 
accomplish this object it is not necessary to do much 
sweeping. Soft hair brooms may be sometimes used, 
taking care not to raise the dust, but to move it gently 
before the broom. To effectually remove the dust damp 
cloths or sponges are necessary. The floors should be 
washed at least twice a week, the other wood-work and 
the windows once a week. Carbolized water should 
always be used in cleaning the wards. 

" Eternal vigilance " is necessary to keep the beds in 
a proper condition, and free from dust, vermin and filth. 
It is the duty of the head nurse to make sure that infect- 
ed beds are taken out of the ward as soon as the patient 
leaves. The blankets and all the bedding from these 
beds should be washed and disinfected. 

All beds, bedding, blankets and pillows should be fre- 
quently exposed to the open air and sunshine. 

Before putting away the clothing of patients it is ne- 
cessary that it be thoroughly cleansed, or it becomes a 
fruitful source of contamination. The duty of the nurse 



10 --1 MANUAL OF NURSING. 

should be to put the clothes in packages, labeled with 
the patient's name and number, and send them to the 
steaming room.* 

Ward bedside tables, if made of wood and painted, 
will admit of frequent washing, or they may be covered 
with muslin. In any case they must be kept clean. 

Bed pans and chamber utensils should have special 
shelves, and only be taken into the ward w^hen required. 
Whatever passes from a patient should be at once remov- 
ed, and the vessel itself rinsed, first with cold, then with 
carbolized water, before being returned to its place. 

The water-closets must be carefully looked after, and 
kept perfectly clean and free from smell. The station- 
ary basins and sinks also need attention to keep them 
clean. Papier mache basins and pails are light and con- 
venient, but are objectionable from the fact that they 
soon absorb impurities and become unfit for use. Glass 
should be used for all possible purposes. 

The soiled linen should be taken at once from the ward 
to the laundry. Covered zinc-lined baskets are useful 

* Though the patient maj'" not be suffering from any infectious 
disease himself, it is impossible to say what may have been the 
state of the people about him before he was brought to the hos- 
pital. If the nurse has any reason to think he has any infectious 
complaint, such as erysipelas, or any of the infectious fevers, her 
duty becomes more urgent to have the clothes instantly removed. 
In such a case she will probably receive from the doctor direc- 
tions for isolating the patient. She must take care to wash her 
hands well with soap and water and some disinfectant solutiDn 
before touching any other patient, — a precaution which may be 
well taken in every case, even though there is no reason to sus- 
pect infection. 



CONGERNINO HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 11 

for this purpose. Articles requiring disinfection should 
be put in separate baskets and so labeled. Each quan- 
tity of soiled linen should be accompanied by a check or 
list, showing the number of articles, and the ward to 
which they belong. Soiled dressings may be put tempo- 
rarily in a glazed earthen-ware bucket with lid, in the 
bath-room, but even here they must not be allowed to 
remain long. They must be soon burned, and the jars 
in which they are kept should be thoroughly carbolized 
each time they are emptied. Some disinfectant, as 
chloride of lime, should be constantly kept in these 
vessels. 

BEDS AND BEDDING. 

JSlnd of bed. — Light iron bedsteads are the best, such 
as are in common use at the present day. If practicable, 
it is a good plan to have two beds near one another, that 
the patient may have one for the night and one for the 
day. Where this is done the nurse must remember that 
the second bed will need to be warmed in many cases 
before the patient gets into it. 

Mattress. — The woven wire bed is superior to all others 
for hospital use. Over this a pair of blankets may be 
spread, which can be frequently washed, or a light straw 
mattress which can be emptied, washed, and freshly 
filled for every new patient. 

Pillows. — The pillows may be made of hair, feathers 
or straw. 

Chaff pillows are very useful in surgical wards. It is 
a soft pillow, susceptible of being moulded to any ro- 



12 A MANUAL OF NURSINa, 

quired shape, is always ready, and has this ads^antage 
that it can be easily renewed. 

Sand bags. — Sand bags should likewise be kept on 
hand. It is advisable to have them of different sizes, 
varying from one to four feet in length, and of propor- 
tionate thickness. 

Preparation of bed for patient. — In preparing the bed 
for a patient, after the under sheet has been adjusted it 
is necessary in many cases to arrange a rubber sheet or 
draw sheet in such a way that no blood or other dis- 
charge could possibly reach the under sheet, as it is often 
important that that should not be frequently changed, 
while it is absolutely necessary to remove any soiled 
clothing from a bed as quickly as possible. 

The draw sheet should be the same width as the sheet, 
to give room for its being tucked under the mattress on 
each side, and about a yard long. It can readily be 
withdrawn from under the patient when soiled without 
changing the under sheet. 

Care must always be taken to keep the sheet on which 
the patient lies smooth and free from crumbs. Neglect 
to do this is a frequent cause of bed-sores. 

To change the under sheet. — To change the under sheet 
without removing the patient from the bed is in many 
cases a difficult operation, and one which will require the 
help of one or two assistants. The nurse should first 
loosely roll the clean sheet, leaving enough unrolled to 
cover the bolster ; she should then free the soiled sheet 
carefully at the head, rolling it in under the patient, until 
the bolster is clear. Then cover the bolster with the 
clean sheet, and roll it under the patient until the clean 



CONCEBNINO HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 13 

and soiled sheets are close beside one another, just under 
the shoulders. She should then work both down togeth 
er, unrolling the clean sheet as she rolls up the soiled one. 
In many cases the patient will be able to raise himself 
sufficiently to let both sheets pass. Where this cannot 
be done, those helping will pass their hands under him, 
giving as much aid as necessary. 

In many cases where the patient can be turned from 
side to side the under sheet may be changed by rolling 
half of the clean sheet lengthwise, instead of as before; 
then roll or lift the patient to one side of the bed, loosen 
the soiled sheet, pressing it close to the back of the pa- 
tient ; cover this side of the bed w4th the clean sheet, 
over this the rubber sheet and draw sheet may be laid, 
having previously rolled them in the same manner as the 
under sheet. Then the patient can be rolled back to this 
side of the bed, the soiled sheet removed from the other 
side, and the under sheet, rubber sheet and draw sheet 
adjusted. 

To change the upper sheet. — To remove the upper sheet 
it is only necessary to take care not to chill the patient. 
Remove all covering from the patient but the sheet and 
one blanket, then lay the clean sheet over these and a 
blanket, after which let the soiled sheet and blanket be 
removed from underneath. 

VENTILATION AND TEMPERATURE. 

Importance of ventilation. — Air which has been con- 
taminated by the breath and other exhalations is no long- 
er fit to meet the wants of the body. Every onci will be 



H A MANUAL OF NVIlSmO, 

ready to acknowledge that to live we must breathe ; few 
seem to realize that it makes any difference whether tho 
. air we breathe be pure or foul. Death would result from 
no air at all, but foul air can support life for some time, 
though it be at a " poor, dying rate ", and at this rate 
many are content to exist. They make no effort to get 
rid of the foul and poisoned air of their dwellings, seem- 
ing rather to try to prevent its escape, while they fear 
instead the effects of pure air, regarding it as an enemy 
to be shunned. 

/Sources of bad air in the sick room. — Foul air is really 
more injurious to the sick than to the well, for with the 
latter its effects are somewhat counteracted by the pure 
air which they will usually get out of doors some time 
during the twenty-four hours ; but the sick often remain 
for weeks in the same room, where they drag on a miser- 
able existence, breathing over and over again the air 
which has been made foul by the breath, exhalations from 
the skin, from the evacuations of the bladder and bowels, 
from discharging wounds, and various other sources, until 
they themselves, as well as the clothing, furniture and 
walls become thoroughly saturated w^ith noxious gases. 
The attempt is never made to thoroughly drive out this 
vile air, and to furnish in its place an atmosphere which 
is not lacking in the life-giving element, oxygen. Popu- 
lar ignorance and indifference in regard to ventilation, a 
subject at once so vital and so simple, is as astonishing 
as it is profound. 

Cold air not always pure. — Some confound the subject 
of ventilation with that of temperature, thinking that 
if a door be opened into a hall where the air is cold, that 



CONGEBNINQ HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT, 15 

that is all that is necessary, forgetting that cold air is not 
always pure, nor pure air necessarily cold. To harmo- 
nize these tv/o essentials of pure air and a comfortable 
temperature, is the object at which we should aim. 

Gold air not dangerous. — The fresh supply of air may 
be previously warmed before it is admitted to the room, 
but while this is sometimes done, and is in a very few 
cases desirable, it is seldom that the admission of cold 
air is a disadvantage, and its invigorating effects are 
often beneficial. The patient should not be in a draft, 
and sufficient clothing may be put on the bed, that there 
will be no danger of taking cold, even in the coldest 
weather. 

Night air. — A foolish prejudice also exists, in many 
minds, against night air.* The difference between day 
and night air lies in the fact that the former is modified 
by the sun. Too much cannot be said of the value of 
sunlight in purifying the atmosphere, acting as a direct 
remedial agency in disease, also in promoting cheerful- 
ness, contributing indirectly to the physical welfare ; but 
as we cannot travel with the sun, and make a journey to 
China and back, every twenty-four hours, v/e are forced 
to breathe night air, and we are left to decide whether 
we will have pure or foul night air. 

Oxygen necessary to combustion, also to life and health. 
— Oxygen constitutes about one-fifth of the atmospheric 
air, and is the element so necessary to life and health. 
The blood comes to the lungs for oxygen, which it takes 

* It is true, that in malarial districts certain precautions need to 
be taken in regard to niglit air, but such precautions are, under 
other circumstances, quite unnecessary. 



le A MANUAL OF mJRSING. 

to different parts of the body. A process of combustion 
is constantly going on in the body, by which we mean 
the chemical union of carbon and oxygen, forming car- 
bonic acid gas, which is thrown off in the breath. When- 
ever carbon unites with oxygen, as in burning wood or 
coal, in the lighted gas jet, the burning lamp or candle, 
the same process of combustion is going on, and the same 
product, carbonic acid gas, is being formed. If, how- 
ever, the supply of oxygen fails, the process ceases. This 
can be seen by putting a lighted candle under a glass jar. 
For a short time it burns brightly, then more and more 
dimly, and finally it goes out. This is because the oxy- 
gen has been all used up. So, if we shut ourselves up in 
a room to which no fresh air is admitted, a similar change 
takes place. Life is not, usually, entirely extinguished, 
because a little air gets in through cracks, crevices, and 
an occasional open door; but all the faculties of the body, 
physical, mental and moral, become impaired. We be- 
come like the dimly-burning candle, which, for most use- 
ful purposes, might as well not burn at all. 

Object of ventilation. — The object of ventilation is to 
remove the impure air, and to supplj' fresh air. The 
means of accomplishing this object are various, consist- 
ing of doors, chimneys, windows, and other special appa- 
ratus provided for the purpose. There is no better ven- 
tilator than an open fire. Warm air is lighter than cold 
air. As the air of the room becomes heated, it rises up 
the chimney, then if fresh air is constantly coming in at 
a window, we have the most perfect ventilation. Venti- 
lating flues are constructed on this principle. They are 
heated by a fire or gas jet ; the heated air rises, the air 



CONCERNING HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 17 

of the room rushes in to supply its place. As the air 
from the room is removed, air from some other source is 
drawn in to take its place. It is important to be sure that 
this air supply be pure. If it is simply cooler air from 
an unventilated hall or corridor, we fail in securing good 
ventilation. It must not be forgotten, that for thorough 
ventilation, opportunity must be offered for foul air to go 
out and for fresh air to come in. 

Ventilation of hospitals especially important. — The 
ventilation of hospitals is especially important, as the 
sources of contamination of the air are so numerous. In 
all well-regulated institutions, there are abundant means 
of ventilation provided, and it becomes the business of 
the nurse to see that these are made use of. At the same 
time care must be taken to see that the patients are not 
exposed to drafts. Screens can be used, as necessary, for 
protection. 

Temperature of wards. — Patients who are in bed, are 
comfortable at a temj^erature lower than would be desir- 
able in an ordinary sitting-room ; it may be allowed to 
range from 65° to 68° F. It should, however, be warmer 
than this when the patients are being bathed. 

It should be remembered that the temperature of the 
body is lower at about three or four o'clock in the morn- 
ing, than at any other time during the twenty-four hours. 
The night nurse should be instructed to see that patients 
have more clothing at this time, if desired, and hot bot- 
tles should be supplied for the feet, as necessary. 

DISINFECTANTS AND DEODORIZERS. 

Jkoo classes. — There are two principal classes of disin- 



18 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

fectants: first, absorbents; second, antiseptics, or those 
which destroy organic matter. 

Absorbe7its. — In the first class are charcoal and porous 
clay. These absorb deleterious substances in the sur- 
rounding atmosphere. The vessels which contain these 
substances should be frequently emptied and renewed. 

Deodorizers. — The absorbents act also as deodorizers. 
There may be circumstances in which it is useful to deo- 
dorize, by substituting a harmless odor for a disagreeable 
one. A good way to do this is to bring into a room a 
shovel full of hot coals, and to pour on them about two 
tablespoonfuls of toilet vinegar, taking care, at the same 
time, to hold the shovel at arm's length. But this in no 
way takes the place of a disinfectant. The real need is 
pure air, to take the place of the contaminated air, and 
as soon as this can be obtained there will be no use for 
deodorizers. Some people have the idea that a disinfec- 
tant, to be really efficacious, must have a strong odor, 
but in reality some of the best disinfectants are quite 
odorless, as sulphate of iron. 

Quick lime acts by absorbing moisture, and is, there- 
fore, useful to put in damp places. 

Slacked lime readily absorbs carbonic acid, as may be 
shown by putting a saucer of lime-water into a room 
where this gas is present, or by blowing into lime-water ; 
the clear water becomes milky in appearance, the insol- 
uble carbonate of lime having been formed. 

Substances both absorbent and antiseptic. — Chloride of 
lime also readily absorbs moisture, but has a further ac- 
tion as an antiseptic* 

* Sulphate of iron is also an absorbent and an antiseptic. 



CONGERNINQ HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 19 

Antiseptics. — Of the second class of disinfectants, or 
antiseptics, there are certain ones which may be con- 
stantly used in occupied wards. Under this head are : 

Those used in occupied wards. — 1. Condy's fluid, a 
strong solution of permanganate of potassa, which, more 
or less diluted, may be exposed in vessels through a 
ward. 

2. Solution of carbolic acid, which may be used as 
above, or sheets wrung out of it may be hung over 
frames, and these may be placed around the bed of a 
patient where more complete isolation is impracticable. 

3. Chloralum may be similarly used. 

Those tcsed in empty icards. — The following disinfec- 
tants can be used only in empty wards : 

1. Chlorine gas. 

2. Sulphurous acid gas. 

For thorough and complete disinfection nothing is su- 
perior to chlorine gas. It is produced thus : 

One part of common salt is mixed with one part of 
black oxide of manganese in a shallow earthen pan. 
Two parts of oil of vitriol, previously diluted with one 
part, by measure, of water, should then be poured over 
it, and the whole stirred with a stick. Chlorine will 
continue to be liberated for four days. It is necessary 
while employing it, that the doors, windows, and chim- 
neys of the room, be kept carefully closed for some 
hours. 

A good, and at the same time a cheap way of disin- 
fecting a ward and its furniture, is by exposing it to the 
action of sulphurous acid gas. All windows and doors 
of the room should be closed while a stick of brimstone 



20 A MANUAL OF mTRSINQ, 

is burnt within, so as to fill the room with the fumes. 
Afterwards, the doors and windows may be opened, and 
the furniture and floor washed with a solution of car- 
bolic acid, one part of carbolic acid to twenty parts of 
water. 

PREVENTION OF THE SPREAD OP CONTAGIOUS DISEASES. 

In a case of measles, scarlet fever, diphtheria or small- 
pox, one of the first things to be considered is how to 
prevent the spread of the disease. 

It would be a good rule to follow when a child is taken 
sick, especially if it have fever or sore throat, to keep it 
away from other children until after it has been seen by 
the physician, and such communication has been pro- 
nounced safe. 

A patient with any of these diseases should be at once 
isolated. Any children in the house should be sent away, 
as they are more susceptible than adults to external influ- 
ences. A room at the toj3 of the house should be chosen 
for the patient. This room should be dismantled of all 
unnecessary furniture. Carpets and upholstered furni- 
ture should be removed. The germs of the disease float 
in the air and settle on all the articles in the room, espec- 
ially becoming entangled in the meshes of woolen ma- 
terials, where they have been known to live for years. 
The most thorough ventilation of the room should be 
secured to dilute the poisoned air which the patient has 
to breathe. This dilution of the poison will also tend to 
limit the spread of the contagion. 

Disinfectants should be used freely. Some disinfec- 



CONCERNING HOSPITAL MANAGEMENT. 21 

tant should be constantly kept in the vessel which re- 
ceives the discharges from the bowels, oi- from the nose 
or throat. Girondin's disinfectant is very good. Sul- 
phate of iron, or some other disinfectant, should be used 
plentifully in the water-closet. Cloths wet in a solution 
of chloride of lime, should be hung in the room. The 
clothing from the bed, or patient, should be removed 
from the room in a covered jar which contains a disin- 
fectant solution. 

The patient should be cared for by a nurse who has no 
communication with other persons. It would be better 
that she should wear clothing which can afterwards be 
destroyed. Diseases are often carried in the dresses of 
attendants. The hair will require the most thorough 
washing with a strong disinfectant solution. 

After recovery the room, and all articles of furniture, 
or clothing, must undergo the most thorough fumigation. 
It is always well to use things that can afterwards be 
burned without much loss, and in a A^ery malignant case, 
such destruction becomes imperative. 

PUERPERAL FEVER. 

Puerperal fever is one of the most malignant of con- 
tagious diseases, and one which, breaking out in a mater- 
nity ward, demands the most decided and prompt action 
to prevent its ravages among the patients. The most 
complete isolation is necessary. Disinfectants should be 
freely used. The nurse who has charge of such a patient 
should have nothing at all to do with the other lying-in 
women. All articles of clothing, and all utensils, should 



23 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

not be allowed to come in contact with other patients. 
The catheter, syringe, and other instruments, should 
never again be used for other patients. It is impossible 
to disinfect them so thoroughly that such use would be 
safe. Carelessness in this direction is one of the most 
frequent causes of the spread of this dreadful disease. 



CHAPTER III. 

OBSERVATION OF THE SICK. 

JMPORTANGE of habits of observation.— It is im- 
possible to enumerate all the points which the 
nurse is called upon to observe in the sick under her 
charge ; but nothing is more important than that she 
cultivate habits of correct observation. The Superinten- 
dent, or her assistant, should frequently require the 
nurses to report what they have observed in the cases 
under their care. She should point out to them what 
they have failed to notice, and by frequent exercise in 
this way their powers of observation will become 
greatly improved. There are many things important for 
the physician to know, which only the observant nurse 
can tell him, and there are others about which she can 
obtain information, and thus be able to give him valuable 
assistance. Patients are generally ready to converse 
more freely with the nurse than with the physician, and 
the opportunities she has of learning about her patient 
are much better than his. In seeking information from 
her patient, the nurse must be conscientious and discreet. 
Let no questions be asked to gratify an idle curiosity. 
Do not weary the patient with questions when he ought 
not to talk, unless the case is urgent, or you are requested 
80 to do by the physician. 

[231 



24 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

Points for observation. — The following are points for 
observation, or inquiry : 

Date ; name of patient ; ago ; sex ; married or single ; 
residence ; employment ; habits, sober or otherwise ; 
previous ill-health ; health of other members of family, 
and, if any be dead, supposed cause of death. 

Geyieral description. — Appearance ; condition ; pos- 
ture ; weight (alteration in) ; temperature ; notice 
whether legs, feet, or bowels be swollen. 

8kin. — Color ; perspiration, general or local ; erup- 
tion, situation and duration ; existence of redness ; 
swellings. 

Alimentary canal. — Hunger ; thirst ; taste. Lips ; 
color, moist or dry. Tongue; form, color, dryness, surface, 
coating. Stomach ; nausea ; vomiting ; eructations ; pain, 
during, before, or after eating (how soon after), charac- 
ter of pain, sharp, heavy or cramp-like. Bowels ; habit- 
ually and at present, as regards frequency of action and 
character of evacuations ; whether any gall-stones, or 
worms (thread, round, or segments of tape-worm), be 
passed. 

C/^'me.— Quantity; frequency (night and day) ; color, 
light or dark ; clear, or opaque ; specific gravity ; sed- 
iment, gravel, or resembling mucus, or pus ; smell, nor- 
mal, or offensive ; pain in micturition, its seat and direc- 
tion ; pain in the loins. 

Circulating system. — Pulse, rate, volume ; j)alpitation ; 
sensation of pain or discomfort at heart. 

Respiratory system. — Frequency of respiration ; regu- 
larity ; difficulty of breathing ; how affected by position. 
Cough ; character, hard, dry, incessant, spasmodic, when 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK. 25 

worse, on first waking, or on movement. Expectoration j 
quantity, character, color, odor, tenacity. 

Nervous system. — General intelligence ; memory ; 
speech ; slowness of manner ; headache (where) ; giddi- 
ness ; sleep ; dreams ; fits ; alteration in kind or degree 
of sensibility in sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch ; pu- 
pils, large or small, any difference between the two ; 
pain ; numbness ; tremors ; rigors ; rigidity ; paralysis. 

In the case of female patients: menstruation, frequency, 
duration ; pain, before, during, or at the time of flow ; 
character of discharge ; profuse or scanty. Any other 
discharge, — character ; amount. If married, number of 
children born at full term ; ages of eldest and youngest ; 
miscarriages, or still-births ; possibility of pregnancy. 

Anything unusual which may come from the patient 
at any time, should be preserved for the doctor's inspec- 
tion, and any event in connection with the same should 
be reported, and the time of its occurrence. 

UNDRESSING PATIENTS. 

To accomplish this object with the least possible pain 
and annoyance to the patient, requires much care on the 
part of the nurse. 

Case of broken thigh. — A case of broken thigh is the 
most difficult to undress. The injury is in itself a serious 
one, and is liable to become much more so by rough or 
clumsy handling. In a case of this kind, the bed clothes 
should all be turned back to the foot of the bed, and the 
patient laid in the middle, — having previously taken care 
to protect the under sheet with a rubber cloth, if the 



26 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

clothes are dirty. If the patient be a male, remove the 
coat, waistcoat and collar, as gently as possible. The 
outer seam of the trouser-leg containing the injured limb 
should then be ripped up until the trousers are completely 
open, waistband included. The buttons should then be 
unfastened (the sheet being first thrown over the patient 
to prevent unnecessary exposure), and the cut trouser-leg 
drawn with the utmost care and gentleness from under 
the whole length of the leg, to the inside, the hand being 
slipped under the thigh, if necessary, to avoid all drag- 
ging. The body of the patient must then be gently 
raised, sufficient to draw the body of the trousers from 
under him; the other trouser-leg can easily be drawn off 
while the sheet is kept over the patient. 

The sock or stocking should be cut open down the 
seam, and the foot drawn oif, while the ankle is firmly 
but gently held without raising the leg, in order to avoid 
any jarring of the broken thigh. 

Broken arm. — If the case is one of broken arm, all the 
sleeves should first be removed from the uninjured limb; 
then those containing the broken limb gently drawn 
down, unless it is found the attempt causes the patient 
great pain; in this case, they should be at once opened 
up the seam. The shirt-sleeve should always be opened, 
and in some cases it is desirable to open the side-seam of 
the shirt as well, both for the convenience of the sur- 
geon, and in order to facilitate the changing of the shirt, 
when necessary. 

Female patients. — Any directions that could be given 
in the case of female patients would have to be modified 
to suit the greater or less degree of complexity in tho 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK. 27 

arrangements in individual cases, and here the nurse will 
often find ample opportunity for the exercise of all the 
ingenuity she possesses. 

In many cases, the dress and skirts may be unfastened 
while the patient is still on the stretcher, and be drawn 
down over the feet, with the aid of assistants to gently 
raise the hips as much as necessary. By ripping the 
seams partially down toward the hems, the skirts may be 
lifted over the feet without raising the body, and they 
will then be as if opened all the way down, the patient 
simply lying on them, after which she can be transferred 
to the bed. The drawers and stockings will have to be 
ripped or cut down, as in the preceding case. If the arm 
be broken, proceed in the same way as with the male 
patient. 

In all cases avoid injuring the clothing more than is 
necessary. 

WASHING PATIENTS. 

On the admission of any new case, the nurse should 
inquire of the physician as to the propriety of the patient 
being put into a warm bath, and if this be not thought 
advisable she should carefully wash the patient as thor- 
oughly as she can without injury. 

Patience, soap and water can do a great deal for the 
removal of lice. Ointments and washes should be used 
only under the direction of the physician, as most of them 
contain powerful drugs, and, if used in excess, are liable 
to produce injury, especially if the patient be young or 
weakly. If other means fail, permission to shave the 
head should be obtained. 



28 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

All patients should have their faces and hands washed 
every morning ; those in bed should have a damp napkin 
brought to them after a meal ; the feet should be washed 
twice a week, and each patient should have a warm bath 
once a week. In many cases more than this is advisable, 
in others, positively necessary, but less than this should 
not be allowed in any case. Many patients are able to do 
this for themselves, but in every case it should be the 
nurse's duty to be sure that it is done efficiently. 

With bed-lying patients the nurse should use screens 
to exclude draft and observation. 

The aim should be to secure cleanliness with the least ex- 
haustion to the patient. Use tepid water and castile soap. 

Avoid exposing too much surface at once. First 
wash face, ears, and neck ; next take each arm in turn, 
then each leg and foot, then the back, last of all, the 
abdomen. 

Use plenty of towels for drying the patient, and fric- 
tion to promote circulation. 

When the skin is harsh and rough from fever, great 
relief is often experienced from the free use of common 
soft soap. 

The nurse should never give an entirely cold bath, 
unless it is so ordered. 

The hair and teeth of patients must not be neglected. 

In baths in which the whole or part of the body is to 
remain a longer or shorter time, the temperature must 
be regulated by the thermometer, and the same tempera- 
ture must be maintained the whole time that the patient 
remains in the bath, which time will be prescribed by 
the physician. 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK, 29 

Temperature of simple batbs. 

Cold, 33° to 65°, Fahr. 

Cool, 65° " 75°, " 

Temperate, T5° " 85°, " 

Tepid, 85° " 92°, " 

Warm, 92° " 98°, " 

Hot, 98° " 112°, « 

DRESSING PATIENTS. 

The body linen of bed-lying patients should be changed 
at least twice a week, and in many cases more fre- 
quently. 

The following directions should be heeded by the 
nurse : 

Never begin to change until you have all you are 
likely to require ready. 

Be careful that there is no draft on the patient. 

Let the fresh linen be properly aired and warmed be- 
forehand. 

Do not move or uncover the patient more than is 
absolutely necessary. 

Begin by removing all sleeves from one arm, then, 
without moving the patient, put on all that is to go on 
this arm, then raise the head and shoulders, removing 
the soiled and adjusting the clean linen well down under 
the shoulders ; the patient can then lie down, and the 
other arm be stripped and dressed. After this, the hips 
can be slightly raised, and the soiled clothing removed, 
and the clean garments arranged. 

Bo not let the patients help too much, and, on the 



80 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

other hand, take care that they do such things as they 
can and ought to do for themselves. 

FEEDING PATIENTS. 

Florence Nightingale says there are four causes of 
starvation among the sick. First: defective cooking. 
Second: defect in choice of diet. Third: a want of 
judgment as to hours of taking nourishment. Fourth: a 
want of appetite on the part of the patient. 

Object of cooking. — The object of cooking is to make 
food digestible and palatable. In the case of the sick, 
this object must never be forgotten, for with them the 
food is to be made ready, not for a healthy person, whose 
digestion can ignore some failings on the part of the 
cook, but for one whose powers are enfeebled by disease, 
and for whom the cooking must do a good part of the 
work of digestion. 

Quality of food. — In the first place, the food should 
never be of uncertain quality. If the milk is in that 
state that suggests sourness, let the patient have some 
other food, the quality of which is beyond suspicion. So, 
also, if the meat, beef tea, or eggs, are not perfectly 
fresh, keep them out of the sick-room. The nurse can- 
not be too careful about these matters, if she does not 
wish to so offend the stomach of her patient that it wilJ 
refuse all food. 

Some directions about preparing food for the sick will 
be given later; but in this connection it is important to 
observe that the nurse should know when the food is well 
prepared, and when it is not. 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK. 31 

In many cases the food is prescribed by the medical 
attendant, and in hospitals especially, the nurse may not 
have much to do with the choice of food, but in any 
case an observant nurse can easily find out what kind of 
food the patient takes with the best relish, and so report 
to the physician. The fact, however, that the patient 
likes a certain kind of food, should not lead the nurse to 
persist in bringing him this, and nothing else, till the 
relish for it is changed into disgust at the sight of it. 

Variety. —^liQ should always bear in mind that the ap- 
petite of the sick is capricious, and that variety in food 
cannot be dispensed with. The patient should never be 
worried with questions as to what he would like to eat, 
but any choice expressed should be gratified if possi- 
ble. 

Hours of taking nourish7ne7it.—li the nurse takes 
away the food from a patient untouched, or but just 
tasted of, she must not leave him without food until the 
time for another meal, or the same thing will be likely to 
occur again. Let her, instead, bring to him, at an unex- 
pected time, nourishment of some kind, well prepared, 
or some little delicacy, and thus spare him the weariness 
and exhaustion which would have been the result of 
going without food. 

In no case should the food be left by the bedside of a 
patient to await the return of appetite. There is no surer 
means than this of banishing all appetite. 

Let the nurse ascertain from the medical attendant 
what quantity of milk, beef-tea, or other food he would 
wish the patient to take in twenty-four hours, also the 
quantity of stimulants, if any is being taken ; then let 



32 A MANUAL OF NURSINO. 

her make a little scale of quantities and intervals, arrang- 
ing also for medicines. Food for the night must not be 
forgotten, or the patient will be too weak to take any- 
thing in the morning. The amount taken at a time will 
vary with the individual, and in the same case must often 
be altered to suit the caprice or necessity of the patient. 
Sometimes two or three teaspoonf uls every hour is better 
than a larger quantity at a longer interval. Some require 
food the moment they wake ; others cannot take it till 
later. Practical experience and good sense will do much 
to teach a nurse what to do in these various cases. 

ApjMite. — Again, there is the consideration of want of 
appetite in the patient. If possible he should not see, 
smell, or hear about food before it is brought to him. 
The nurse should see that things that are intended to be 
hot are hot, and not lukewarm. Do not bring a patient 
warm tea nor coffee, a warm mutton chop, nor warm 
toast. For anything of this kind previously scald the 
plates and cups in which it is to be served. Do not let 
the cups be so full that a part of the contents will be 
s^iilled over into the saucer. Bring everything necessary 
at once, and not let the patient wait for you to go for 
salt, spoon, or fork. Do not think it will help the appe- 
tite of your patient for him to see you taste of his tea or 
broth to assure yourself that it is rightly prepared. Bring 
only a small quantity of food at once, and let this be made 
to look as attractive as possible. 

SPECIAL CASES. 

Fever Patients. — Patients suffering from fever require 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK, 8S 

liquid food in small quantities at frequent intervals ; 
often not more than a teaspoonf ul can be given at a time, 
which should be given every half hour or oftener. 

In feeding a patient who is either delirious or in a 
stupor, you may suffocate him by giving him his food 
suddenly, but if you rub his lips gently with a spoon, or 
gently draw down the lower lip with tlie forefinger suffi- 
ciently to allow the end of the bowl to pass, thus attract- 
ing his attention, he will swallow the food unconsciously 
but with safety. 

The patient will be often suffering from thirst when 
too weak to ask for anything to drink, or even to care to 
drink when urged, but will be very grateful for a little 
cool slightly acid liquid which the nurse will put into the 
mouth. Bits of ice now and then will be taken eagerly. 

Helpless patient. — Patients that are not entirely help- 
less will prefer to feed themselves, even though they 
have to be slow and clumsy in doing it, but the really 
helpless patient must be entrusted to the tender mercy 
of the nurse. She should first arrange the napkin well 
under the chin so that nothing shall drop on the clothing 
of patient or bed. She must take care that the food be 
not too hot, and that the mouthfuls she gives him are of 
convenient size. Above all things give the patient plenty 
of time. Bring a damp napkin after the meal to wipe 
the mouth. 

Exhausted patient. — In a case of exhaustion a small 
amount of food must be given at a time, usually com- 
bined with some stimulant, and frequently repeated. If 
necessary, both the nourishment and stimulant can bo 
given in the form of enemata. 
2* 



84 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 



PASSIVE EXERCISE. 

ITETHOS GIVEN BY DR. TTEIR MITCHELL IN "FAT AND BLOOD, AND HOW TO 
MAKE THEM." 

"An hour is chosen midway between two meals, and, 
the patient lying in bed, the manipulator starts at the 
feet, and gently but firmly pinches up the skin, rolling it 
lightly between his fingers and going carefully over the 
whole foot, then the toes are bent and moved about in 
every direction ; and next, with the thumb and fingers, 
the little muscles of the foot are kneaded and pinched 
more largely, and the inter-osseous groups worked at 
with the finger-tips between the bones. At last the 
whole tissues of the foot are seized with both hands, and 
somewhat firmly rolled about. Next the ankles are dealt 
with in like fashion, all the crevices between the articu- 
lating bones being sought out and kneaded, Avhile the 
joint is put in every possible position. The leg is next 
treated, first by grasping the areolar tissue, and last by 
industrious and deeper pinching of the large muscular 
masses, which for this purpose are put in a position of 
the utmost relaxation. The grasp of the muscles is mo- 
mentary, and for the large muscles of the calf and thigh 
both hands act, the one contracting as the other loosens 
its grip. In treating the firm muscles in front of the leg, 
the fingers are made to roll the muscles under the 
cushions of the finger-tips. At brief intervals the man- 
ipulator seizes the limb in both hands, and lightly runs 
the grasp upwards, so as to favor the flow of venous 
blood-currents, and then returns to the kneading of the 
muscles. 



OBSERVATION OF THE SICK. 35 

"The same process is carried on in every part of the 
body, and special care is given to the muscles of the loins 
and spint, while usually the face is not touched. The 
belly is first treated by pinching the skin, then by deeply 
grasping and rolling the muscular walls in the hands, and 
at last the whole belly is kneaded with the heel of the 
hand in a succession of rapid, deep movements, passing 
around in the direction of the colon. 

" It depends very much on the strength, endurance and 
practice of the manipulator how much good is done by 
these maneuvres. 

" At first, or for a few sittings, they are to be very 
gentle, but by degrees they may be made more rough, 
and if the manipulator be a good one, it is astonishing 
how much strength may be used without hurting the 
patient. 

" The early treatment should last half an hour, and 
should be increased by degrees to an hour, after which 
should follow an hour of absolute rest. 

" The patient should be at once wrapped up as soon as 
manipulated. 

" After the first few days keep the patient constantly 
lubricated with cocoa-oiL Vaseline is also a good lubri- 
cant" 



CHAPTER TV. 

ADMINISTRATION OP MEDICINES. 

lifEDICINE closet. — The medicines should be kept in 
a locked closet opening from the ward, or convenient 
to it. It is a good plan to have the closet arranged in 
divisions numbered to correspond with the beds. 

Medicines and lotions should not be kept near each 
other. If possible, let the lotions be kept in fluted 
bottles, or those which have some other distinction from 
the medicine bottles, so that the nurse can tell by touch 
that she has the lotion bottle in her hand. 

Schedule of hours for administration. — It is the duty of 
the head nurse of each ward to administer the medicines. 
To secure their administration as prescribed, she should 
keep a written schedule of hours at which they are to be 
taken, with the amounts. Cards or tablets may be hung 
over each of the divisions, in which will be, first, the num- 
ber of the patient, then, the name, then the date at which 
the medicine was commenced. If the patient is taking 
several medicines, the nurse, for her own convenience, 
can label the bottles. A, B, C, etc. Then the cards can 
be arranged thus : 
[36] 



ADMINISTRATION OF MEDICINES. 



37 



No. 






Name 






DaU 






Hours. 


Bottle. 


Amount. 



If any medicine is increased, diminished, or discon- 
tinued for a day or two, mention the same with date, and 
date of renewal. If omitted entirely the bottle should 
be removed from the closet. 

On a slate hanging in the closet the nurse should keep 
a list of patients who take medicine at the same time, as 
before meals, after meals, at bed-time. There should be 
another list of those taking medicines at irregular times, 
with the hours for the same. 

Convalescents will come to the closet at the appointed 
liours and receive their medicine from the nurse. To 
those lying in bed the medicine will be brought, always 
with a glass of water from which to drink after taking 
it. The head nurse will herself measure the medicines, 
but her assistant may take them to the patients as she 
will specify. 

Exact measurement. — The exact quantity of medicine 
ordered should be measured with the graduated medi- 
cine glasses. If teaspoon ful or tablespoonful doses are 
prescribed, she can so measure it, but these are uncertain 
measurements and ought not to be used. 



k 



88 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

The nurse should never trust to measuring by the eye. 
She may think that with certain medicines she can do it 
with sufficient exactness. But there is no such thing as 
exact enough. It is unsafe to allow^ the least moral laxity 
to creep in here. The nurse may think she knows the con- 
tents of a certain bottle. It may resemble something 
she does know about in color, consistency, smell, and 
taste, and yet be quite another thing, and an overdose 
often repeated may cause serious injury. If the nurse 
thinks that the medicine a patient is taking is producing 
any very marked symptoms, such as vomiting, diarrhoea, 
pain in the stomach, headache, drowsiness, convulsive 
movements of the muscles, running at the eyes, nose, or 
mouth, she should at once inform the medical attendant. 
And she will often be told by him to watch for certain 
symptoms, and on their appearance to omit the medicine. 

Cleanliness of glass. — After medicine has been given 
to one patient, the glass should always be rinsed and 
wiped before being used for another. 

A separate measure should be used for oily or strong- 
smelling medicines. 

The medicine should never be poured out within sight 
or smell of the patient, if it is in any way disagreeable 
to him, and if he takes anything after it, the same should 
be ready with the dose. 

Liquid medicines — with the exception of oil — should 
always be diluted with water. 

Castor oil. — The nauseous taste of castor oil is covered 
by warm milk, or by coffee. Glycerine is another good 
vehicle for castor oil. First put into the glass the glyc- 
erine, in quantity equal to the oil, which you next add, 



ADMINISTRATIOl^ OF MEDICINES. 39 

then add a few drops of some flavoring substance, as 
spirits of anise, lavender, or tincture of orange peel, and 
it can be taken without much trouble. Or, put a tea- 
spoonful of brandy into a glass, wet the sides well with 
it, then pour the oil slowly on to it ; on the top of the oil 
put another teaspoonful of brandy. Before the patient 
takes it, give him a little brandy with which thoroughly 
to rinse his mouth, and another sip after he has swallowed 
the oil, and he will thus be spared tasting the latter. 

Cod-liver oil. — Cod-liver oil may be given in a similar 
manner, other spirits may be substituted for brandy. 
Strong coffee disguises the taste well. It may be easily 
taken with the froth of porter. 

Volatile medicines. — When medicines are volatile, they 
ought to be swallowed the instant they are poured into 
the glass. The bottle should be immediately corked. 

Sfferverscing medicines. — A large glass should be used 
for efferverscing medicines, so that a portion of the dose 
be not lost. 

Powders. — Powders should be mixed with a little 
sugar, w^ater or milk. 

Pills. — If a patient be unable to take pills, the pill 
should be put into a morsel of soft bread, or into a mass 
of any conserve, and water given immediately after. 
The smaller the pill the greater is the difficulty of swal- 
lowing it. Or, the nurse may take a small piece of 
damped rice paper, or a wafer made for this purpose, 
and putting this into a tablespoon may fold it round the 
pill or pills. The spoon may \\e then filled with water, 
and placed by the nurse well back in the throat of the 
patient, who swallows the mass without difficulty. 



40 A MAJ^UAL OF NURSTWG. 

Suppositories. — Suppositories are medicines in a solid 
form, introduced into the rectum or vagina, generally 
either to relieve pain, or to act as astringents. 

ENEMATA. 

Injections into the bowel are called by this name. 
They are used for many purposes, and may be either 
purgative, sedative, stimulant or nourishing. 

Administration. — The patient should lie on the left 
side, close to the edge of the bed, with the knees drawn 
up, where this is possible. The tube of the syringe 
should be well oiled, and the nurse, standing at the back 
of the patient, should pass her hand under the sheet and 
introduce it not more than four inches into the anal ori- 
fice upward and backward, holding it steadily there while 
the syringe is worked. No force should ever be used to 
overcome any obstruction to the passage of the tube. 
The injection should be done slowly, with a moderate 
amount of pressure, and should be stopped at once if the 
patient asserts that he cannot bear any more. 

The fluids commonly used for this purpose are the 
following : 

Simple enema. — Warm water, alone, or with sufficient 
soap rubbed into it to render it creamy. From one to 
two pints of water may be used. 

Purgative enema. — Half an ounce or an ounce of castor 
oil, or olive oil, a dessert or tablespoonf ul of common 
salt, or turpentine, added to about a pint of warm water, 
form the purgative enemata most generally used. 

Anodyne enema. — Laudanum, added to two ounces of 



ADMINISTRATION OF MEDICINES. 41 

thin starch or arrow-root, is the sedative injection gener- 
ally employed. The quantity used is directed by the 
doctor. The starch or arrow-root should be made with 
cold Abater. 

Nutritive enema. — Nutritive enemata should be always 
small, for the smaller their bulk the more likely are they 
to be retained. They should never exceed four fluid 
ounces. One ounce of very strong material is often suf- 
ficient. They should be very slowly injected, so as not 
to stimulate the bowel to reject them. They may con- 
sist of beef-tea, soup, milk, or milk and eggs beaten up 
together, thickened with arrow-root or corn flour, which 
helps to retain the enema in the bowel. 

Good way of giving feeding enema. — An excellent 
method of giving an enema for feeding purposes, is as 
follows. Get a glass syringe which will hold not less 
than three fluid ounces, fill it with the enema which is to 
be given, attach to the nozzle of the syringe a piece of 
slender india-rubber tubing, about three inches long, and 
put into that a tube such as is used for injecting an in- 
fant, or a flexible catheter, full size. Press down the 
piston of the syringe until the fluid escapes at the end 
of the catheter, which, first oiled, must then be iniro-' 
duced into the bowel, and the enema slowly and gently 
sent up. 

Precautions. —Yti giving any enema, care should be taken 
to fill the syringe before introducing the tube into the 
rectum, so that no air be thrown into the bowel. Feed- 
ing and anodyne enemata must be pumped up very 
slowly. 



42 A MANUAL OF NUnslNG. 



HYPODERMIC INJECTIONS. 

Tri/podermic injections. — Anodynes, and sometimes 
other remedies, are now often given by injection under 
the skin. Magendie's solution of morphine is commonly 
thus employed, and of this from six to ten minims given 
at a dose. In introducing the needle, a fold of the skin 
is to be taken up between the finger and thumb, and with 
the other hand the needle is to be firmly and quickly 
passed horizontally to the depth of about half an inch. 
Then press the piston gently till the marks show that the 
desired quantity has entered. Take care that there are 
no bubbles of air in the fluid to be injected. 

PASSING THE CATHETER. 

For females the simplest plan is to make the patient 
lie upon her back, with the thighs separated and slightly 
drawn up. Having oiled the second finger of the right 
hand, the nurse introduces it between the labia, just above 
the entrance to the vagina, where the trained finger will 
detect the orifice of the urethra; along the finger, as on 
a director, she slips the instrument (previously well oil- 
ed) held lightly in the left hand. Thus the catheter can- 
not enter the vagina, while it will almost certainly slip 
into the orifice of the urethra. 

Force should never bo used if any obstruction is felt 
to its passage into the bladder. Let the catheter be 
withdrawn instead, and one of smaller size tried. Once 
within the cavity of the bladder, the point is felt to move 
freely, and the urine flows from the catheter. 



ADMINISTRATION OF MEDICINES. 43 

To loash out the bladder or wject fluids into it, — It is 
sometimes necessary to wash out the bladder or inject 
fluids into it : for this purpose a syringe can be attached 
to the catheter, previously introduced. A still better 
pliin is to fit some rubber tubing to the catlieter through 
which the water may flow -jm a bowl slightly elevated 
with less force tlmn whe hrown, though as gently as 
possible, from a syringe. 



CHAPTER V. 

APPLICATIONS. 

T)R y^ heat. — To raise the temperature of certain parts 

of the body, and to relieve pain, dry heat is often 

ordered. It may be applied by means of hot flannels, 

tins, or bottles fiDed with hot water, by dry heated 

bricks, and by bags of heated sand. 

Flannel. — Flannel being of a loose texture, and involv- 
ing air in its meshes, is a bad conductor of heat ; when 
heated it should be put together as loosely as possible, 
and applied in that state to the skin. It should never be 
covered by a towel, or linen, as that augments its radiat- 
ing property. White flannel retains heat much longer 
than colored flannel. 

Stomach plates and other solid media for applying 
warmth to the body should be covered with white or 
colored flannel, according as they may required to com- 
municate an immediate or intense heat, or to convey a 
slighter but more permanent stimulus to the part required 
to be heated. 

To apply dry heat to the surface of the body generally, 
the hot air, or lamp bath, is used. The temperature may 
be raised from 100° to 160°, according to the require- 
ments of the case. 
[44] 



APPLICATIONS. 45 

The patient must have his clothes removed and a 
blanket thrown over him, a framework should then be 
adjusted over him by which the bed-clothing may be 
kept from contact with the body, when it should be 
covered with blankets sufficient to retain the heated air. 
The air may be heated by means of a spirit lamp con- 
nected with an apparatus which has a tube communicat- 
ing with the interior of the frame. When everything is 
ready the blanket covering the patient can be removed. 
The hot air bath should last about twenty minutes, by 
which time the patient will probably be perspiring pro- 
fusely. He should then be dried with hot towels and 
wrapped in a blanket. 

Moist heat. — Moist heat may be applied to either the 
whole or a part of the body. When the former is re- 
quired the bath should be large enough to immerse the 
whole of the body as high as the neck. 

Baths. — The temperature should be tested by the ther- 
mometer, and hot water added as necessary to maintain 
the same temperature while the patient remains in the 
bath. The medium length of time for the bath is from 
ten to fifteen minutes, unless otherwise ordered by the 
physician. 

Sip-bath. — The quantity of water used for a hip-bath 
should be only sufficient to fill a little more than one- 
third of the vessel employed. 

If it is required to excite the womb to greater activity 
when the monthly secretion is defective, the heat of the 
bath should be as high as it can be borne, but the time 
of remaining in it should not exceed fifteen minutes. 

Foot-hath. — As a foot-bath is chiefly intended to cause 



46 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

derivation, it should be used as hot as it can be borne, and 
always hot enough to redden the skin of the part im- 
mersed. 

For applying moist heat locally, fomentations and 
poultices are used. 

Fomentations. — For a fomentation, take a piece of flan- 
nel a yard square ; put a wringer into a basin, and lay the 
flannel, doubled into a small space, on the wringer. Pour 
boiling water on it, and wring it until no more water can 
be squeezed from the flannel. Fold it the required size, 
and lay it on the patient, taking care that it is not too 
hot, although it should be as hot as it can be comfortably 
borne. Cover with a dry flannel, oiled silk or rubber 
cloth. 

Turpentine stupe. — When a turpentine stupe is ordered 
the flannel should be wrung out of boiling water, as 
before, and a teaspoonful of turpentine sprinkled on it, 
care being taken that it is well spread through the flan- 
nel, or it will be apt to raise blisters in spots. The nurse 
should examine the skin from time to time as the fomen- 
tation is removed, as turpentine applied too often on the 
same surface will produce severe blisters, and in some 
persons the skin is much more susceptible to irritation 
than in others. In cases of acute pain a teaspoonful of 
laudanum may be ordered to be used in the same way as 
the turpentine. 

Wringers. — Wringers are made as follows : A jjiece 
of coarse toweling should be cut into widths of sixteen 
inches and lengths of thirty-two inches. The sides must 
be firmly hemmed or bound ; the ends must have a hem 
wide enough to admit the wringer-stick, which is gener- 



APPLICATIONS. 47 

ally from four to iive inches in circumference. When the 
wringer is to be used, run the sticks through the hems, 
gathering the wringer into the middle of the stick. 
Spread the wringer out in an empty basin, leaving the 
sticks hanging over the edges ; put the flannel for the 
fomentation in the basin on the wringer, pour on the 
boiling water, fold the wringer over the flannel, and tak- 
ing a stick in each hand twist them in opposite directions 
until every drop of water that can be squeezed out is 
wrung from the flannel. The fomentation should be 
carried in the wringer to the bedside and there unfolded. 
It should be as hot as it can be borne, and wrung out as 
dry as possible. 

In a private house where the conveniences for wringing 
are not at hand, the hot flannel can be wrung out quite 
well by being placed in a towel without the sticks at the 
ends ; or, the flannel may be wrung out of water of a 
comfortable temj^erature to the hands, and then a very 
hot iron passed over it. 

Fomentations are very valuable agents for the relief of 
pain. In violent pain they should be changed as often 
as every ten or fifteen minutes. If the pain is less severe, 
once in one, two, or three hours, will be often enough. But 
in no case should they be allowed to become cold. Fo- 
mentations are often useful where the patient has diffi- 
culty in passing water. 

Spongio-piline is a good material for fomentation. 

A double layer of lint, wrung in a towel after being 
steeped in boiling water, and covered with light india- 
rubber cloth, forms the best fomentation for long con- 
tinued application. 



48 A MAJWAL 0¥ NUn^rNQ, 



rOULTTCES. 

Poultices. — Poultices are employed in the treatment of 
abscesses, suppurating wounds, inflammation, and pain. 
In making them the nurse should aim to have them hot, 
smooth, and light. 

Linseed-meal poultice. — First scald out the basin in 
which the poultice is to be made. Then pour in boiling 
water according to the size of the poultice required. 
For a linseed-meal poultice, add gradually sufficient lin- 
seed-meal to form a thick paste, stirring constantly one 
way until it is of the proper consistence and smoothness. 
It may be spread on linen, or muslin. 

Charcoal poultice. — For a charcoal poultice take two 
ounces of bread crumbs, and soak for ten minutes in ten 
ounces of boiling water ; then mix, and add gradually 
one-half an ounce of powdered wood-charcoal, and one 
and a half ounces of linseed-meal. The whole should be 
well stirred together, and then spread and applied in 
the ordinary manner. 

Chlorinated soda poultice. — A chlorinated soda poultice 
is made like a linseed-meal poultice, but consists of two 
parts of linseed-meal to one of chlorinated soda mixed 
with boiling water. 

Yeast poultice. — A yeast poultice is made by mixing a 
pound of flour or linseed-meal, or oat-meal, with half a 
pint of yeast. The mixture is to be heated and carefully 
stirred. 

All poultices are made with boiling water, except 



APPLICATIONS, 49 

yeast poultices. With them the temperature should not 
be over 100°. 

Mustard povltice. — For a mustard poultice, or plaster, 
a sufficient quantity of powered mustard should be taken 
to make a thin paste the required size. This should be 
mixed with boiling water, with a small quantity of vine- 
gar added, if a very strong poultice is required, and 
spread on brown paper, or linen, with a piece of thin 
muslin over it. 

A mustard poultice should generally be kept on from 
ten to twenty minutes, but some skins will bear it much 
longer than others: If the skin is very irritable after- 
wards, a little flour should be sprinkled over it. This 
will remove the burning sensation. 

Mustard and Unseed poulitce. — Mustard poultices are 
often mixed with linseed meal, when a milder form is re- 
quired than of mustard alone. After the use of any kind 
of mustard poultice, the skin should be carefully wiped 
with something very soft, so that no mustard be left be- 
hind. 

Caution. — It is necessary to remember when using any 
kind of poultice for children that their skin is more ten- 
der and sensitive than that of older persons. The same 
caution applies to the use of heat when the patient is 
paralyzed, as sloughing may follow after a poultice which 
has been too hot. Care should be taken in poulticing 
never to cover the umbilicus or nipples. In poultices a 
hole should be cut when strapping or bandaging, if it 
is necessary to cover them, a double fold of lint should 
be placed over them, before crossing with the bandage 
or plaster. 
3 



50 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

Preparing patient. — When a poultice is to be applied, 
the nurse should get her patient ready first. If he has a 
wound it should be thoroughly washed, and lightly 
covered. Then the poultice should be made quickly, and 
applied as warm as the patient can bear it. If the poul- 
tice is first made, and kept warm at the fire while the 
patient is prepared, the water evaporates, and, instead of 
a poultice, a hard, dry cake is formed. 

INHALATION. 

The method of applying heat and moisture in affections 
of the throat and chest is termed inhalation. In hospitals 
an apparatus called an inhaler is generally used. Where 
this cannot be obtained a cone can be made of paper, and 
this can be placed over a pitcher containing boiling hot 
water, medicated as desired. The patient should place 
the mouth-piece of the inhaler, or the small end of the 
paper cone in, or against the mouth, and breath quietly. 

SPRAT DISPERSEB. 

Spray. — The spray disperser is an apparatus contrived 
for the formation of spray, and for its inhalation. The 
usual form of it is that of two india-rubber balls, by which 
air is forced so rapidly through a tube as to cause a 
vacuum in a lower tube below it, and the rapid rise of 
liquid from the bottle in which the tube is fixed. 

This instrument supplies the place of gargles, and is 
very useful in the case of sore throat. Iced water and 
medicated substances are thus used. 



APPLICATWNS. 51 



COLD. 



Cold. — Cold may be used to arrest bleeding, or subdue 
inflammation. 

The principal intention of many lotions is to abstract 
heat by means of the evaporation which they produce. 
The inflamed part, therefore, should be covered with a 
single layer of thin linen, or muslin — the thinner the 
better — and kept constantly cool by dropping cold water, 
or an evaporating lotion, on it. 

Siphons, — The best way of keeping it wet is by means 
of a piece of worsted passing to it from a vessel raised 
somewhat above the part ; or a small siphon may be 
fitted to the vessel, by which the amount of fluid can be 
accurately controlled. 

Arrangement of bed. — The bed near the part must be 
arranged with rubber-cloth, raised on a small pad to- 
wards the center, with a broad piece hanging over the 
mattress at the side, to carry off superfluous water into 
a vessel of some sort put to receive it. 

Ice. — Ice may be broken up into pieces, and put into a 
bladder, or an india-rubber ice bag. The bladder should 
not be more than half full, and it should be securely tied 
around the neck. 

The best way of applying ice to the head is to place a 
smooth piece of ice, two or three inches long, and about 
one and a half broad, in a cup of soft sponge, and pass 
it round and round over the head. The sponge absorbs 
the water, and the pain of the cold is avoided. 



53 A MANUAL OF NUMSmO, 



LEECHES. 

Ziceches. — Leeches are applied for the purpose of re- 
moving a small quantity of blood from any locality in 
which it is inconvenient to use any other means of 
blood-letting, but they should never be applied immedi- 
ately over a large vein for fear of inflammation or trouble- 
some bleeding. 

How to make them take hold. — When leeches are to be 
applied to a part it should first be well washed. If they 
refuse to take hold moisten the surface with a little 
cream, milk, or fresh blood. Sometimes when they per- 
sist in refusing to bite, if they are put into a plate with 
some beer, and then held firmly by the tail they will fix 
themselves almost immediately. 

To make them relax hold, — When leeches have taken 
their fill they usually drop off ; but sometimes they will 
stick on for a long time. In such a case the application 
of a little salt will cause them readily to relax their 
hold. 

Quantity of hlood. — The quantity of blood obtained by 
one leech is estimated at a little more than a teaspoonf ul. 
It is often desired to increase this, and it may be done 
by means of a fomentation or poultice placed over the 
bites. It is then necessary to watch carefully that the 
bleeding does not become excessive, as some persons 
bleed much more easily than others. 

To stop bleeding. — The bleeding from a leech-bite, if 
excessive, may generally be stopped by the pressure of 
the finger ; but if this be unsuccessful it is better to re- 



APPLICATIONS. 53 

port to the physician at once. Should there be any 
delay in his arrival, a little tincture of iron, or a point of 
caustic may arrest the bleeding. If the patient should 
become faint while the fomentation is still on, remove it 
at once, apply a little dry lint to each bite to arrest the 
bleeding, and send for the doctor. A small quantity of 
stimulant may be given without delay. 

Leeches that have been once applied are seldom of any 
further use ; but if it should be considered desirable to 
try, the leeches should be placed in a plate with a little 
salt and water, and when they have relieved themselves 
of the greater part of the blood which they have swal- 
lowed, they should be placed in a jar of clean water by 
themselves. 

Leeches to the loomb. — It is sometimes necessary to ap- 
ply leeches to the lips of the womb. The patient must 
lie on the back with the thighs flexed and separated, and 
the speculum be introduced. Leech-glasses will be re- 
quired to apply the leeches, or if these be not at hand, 
small sized test-tubes will answer. 

CUPPING. 

Cupping. Two kinds. — Cupping is of two kinds, dry 
and wet cupping. The following articles are used in 
both operations, with the addition of an instrument for 
scarifying, in the case of wet cupping. Four or five small 
glasses specially made for this purpose, or in the absence 
of these, common tumblers may be used, some blotting 
paper or cotton-wool, a little alcohol in a saucer, and a 
lighted candle or spirit lamp. 



94 A MANUAL OF NURSINO. 

The first portion of the operation is the same in both 
cases. 

Applying the cups. — The glasses should be previously 
warmed, and some pieces of blotting paper, about two 
inches square, be set to soak in the alcohol. Then taking 
a glass in the right hand, the nurse should light a piece 
of the blotting paper, saturated Avith alcohol, and throw 
it into the glass, and after letting it burn for two or three 
seconds, should invert the glass suddenly over the select- 
ed spot, and so on with each in succession. A bladder 
will be seen to rise almost immediately in the interior of 
each glass, and now, if wet cupping be desired, the glass 
must be removed, the scarificator applied to the part, and 
the glass re-applied as before. 

Mernoving. — The glasses may be easily removed by in- 
serting the thumb-nail between the rim of the glass and 
the skin. 

Time. — The glasses may be left on for periods vary- 
ing from five minutes to half an hour. 

BLISTERS. 

Blisters. — Blisters are of different shape, according to 
the part to which they are applied; the time required for 
their action varies, but is usually from six to eight hours. 
By gently raising the edge on one side, the question as 
to the appearance of the blister may be easily settled. 

Dressing. — When the skin is properly raised, the blis- 
ter may be dressed in one of two ways, according as 
whether it is desired to keep open, or to heal the blister- 
ed surface. In the latter case, after the plaster has been 



APPLIGATIOm. 55 

carefully removed, the cuticle should be snipped at the 
most depending part, and the fluid evacuated into a small 
cup held to receive it. Place a little cotton wool around 
to prevent the fluid running over the skin. It should then 
be dressed with a piece of lint, spread with simple oint- 
ment or cosmoline. 

Open hlister. — If, on the contrary, it is desired to keep 
the blister open, the cuticle should be removed by cutting 
all round the edge with a pair of scissors, after which it 
will be dressed with some irritating ointment as ordered. 

LOTIONS. 

Lotions, — Lotions are usually applied on lint or rag 
which has been previously soaked in the lotion required. 
If it is desired to produce a cooling effect by the evapo- 
ration of the lotion, only one layer of very thin material 
should be used. 

Evaporating lotion. A simple evaporating lotion is one 
part of alcohol to eight of water. Bay rum or cologne 
may be substituted for the alcohol. The following is a 
very good formula : Muriate of ammonia, 12 grs. ; alco- 
hol, 36 minims ; water, 1 oz. 

Drops for the eyes. — When a nurse is ordered to drop 
a lotion into the eye, she should always use a new camel's 
hair brush for the purpose — unless otherwise directed — 
as with that it is almost impossible to injure the eye if 
the patient should start suddenly, which he is very likely 
to do should the lotion cause him some pain. 

LINIMENTS. 

Liniment. — When any remedy in a liquid form is ap 



5f> A MANUAL OF NUBSmG, 

plied to a part by rubbing, it is called a liniment, and 
may be either soothing, stimulating, or counter-irritant. 
Caution. — Great care must be taken with liniments and 
lotions that they be not administered internally [see page 
36]. 



CHAPTER VL 

DRESSING OF WOUNDS. 

APPARATUS GENERALLY EMPLOYED IN DRESSING. 

j^TICKIJSra PLASTER.— Sticking plaster, called also 
adhesive plaster, or resin plaster, is used to bring the 
edges of wounds together, and to retain applications in 
position. It should be cut in strips varying in breadth from 
a quarter of a inch to an inch and a half, and in the direc- 
tion of the length of the web, and not across the breadth, 
as it will stretch and become useless if so cut. The best 
mode of heating it is by applying the linen side to a tin 
vessel containing hot water. The flame of an alcohol 
lamp or candle may also be used for this purpose. 

The edges of the wound should be held together with 
the finger and thumb of the left hand, while one end of 
the strip, held in the right hand, should be laid on the 
skin at a distance, and brought across the wound tightly. 

Before the application of sticking plaster to any part 
of the body it should be well dried, and all hairs be 
shaved off. 

Isi7iglass plaster. — Isinglass plaster is also employed 
for bringing together the edges of wounds. It is ren- 
dered stioky by moistening the coated side with a damp 



58 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

sponge, care being taken not to rub the sponge more 
than once over it. 

Bandages. — Bandages are used to retain dressings in 
position. 

Li7it. — Lint is a so<"t linen woven material, with a nap 
on one side. It should always be cut with scissors and 
not torn, as it will pull into shreds if the latter be 
attempted. 

Charpie. — Charpie is composed of ravelings or shreds 
torn or scraped from linen. 

Oakum. — Oakum is old rope which has been shredded 
and carded. It is of a bright brown color, with a tarry- 
odor. A little of the oakum is teased and drawn into a 
suitable shape for covering the wound. It absorbs the 
discharge from wounds, and, being impregnated with tar, 
acts as disinfectant to destroy any bad odor arising from 
them. 

Tow. — Tow is the fibre of flax or hemp teased and 
loosely carded into sheets and done up in rolls. It is 
employed to absorb discharges from wounds, as a substi- 
tute for sponges in washing wounds, and for stuffing 
pads for splints. 

Disinfectants. — Disinfectants of various kinds are used 
in washing wounds. One commonly used is a solution of 
carbolic acid, one part to one hundred parts of water. 

The dressmg-tray. — The dressing-tray should be pro- 
vided with the following materials and appliances neces- 
sary in dressing wounds : a pair of dressing forceps, for 
removing any particles of dressing or other matter which 
may adhere to the wound, and also for introducing small 
portions of lint or other dressing into a wound ; a pair 



DRESSING OF WOUNDS 59 

of strong, sharp scissors, with which to cut lint, sticking- 
plaster, and other dressing material ; a pair of sharp- 
pointed scissors, useful in dressing blisters ; a razor, for 
shaving hairy surfaces near a wound ; a small silver 
probe, to convey small pieces of dressing into deep open- 
ings ; a scalpel ; a spatula ; a caustic-holder ; pins ; 
needles ; white thread ; silk ; lint ; cotton-wool ; tow ; 
bandages ; sticking plaster ; soft rags. 

Other things needed. — There are other things which the 
nurse must get ready before proceeding to uncover the 
wound. The bed must be protected by a rubber cloth. 
The tin for heating the sticking-plaster must be filled 
with hot water. Two basins are necessary — one to be 
placed below the part to be washed, in such a position 
as to catch the water as it flows off the wound, while the 
other should contain the fresh water which is to trickle 
over the wonnd. Then there should be a bowl for the 
soiled dressings, warm water, a disinfectant lotion, and 
any special ointment, or dressing, as ordered. 

Sponges. — Sponges are objectionable for dressing 
wounds, as they are liable to be the means of conveying 
poisonous matter from one wound or sore to another. 
Tow, or cotton-wool soaked in water are much better, as 
they can be destroyed after use, and thus insure a clean 
thing each time, and prevent any chance of the same 
thing being used for more than one patient. 

When proceed to uncover wounds. — Wounds should 
never be uncovered for the purpose of being dressed until 
everything that is likely to be required during the pro- 
cess is at hand ; the only exception to this rule being 
those wounds which require poulticing, when the old 



60 A MANUAL OF NUHSTNG. 

dressing should be removed, the discharges cleaned away, 
and the wound lightly covered with a piece of clean linen 
until the poultice is ready. In the case of a patient who 
is burnt over a large surface of the body, only a small part 
should be uncovered at a time. 

Precautio7i. — If the surgical nurse has any crack or cut 
on her hands it should be covered with adhesive plaster 
before commencing the dressing. If the skin is not quite 
smooth around the nails, if there is any scratch or hang- 
nail, the nurse would do well to put simple cerate or soap 
all around the nails. 

Necessary care. — After attending to one patient, the 
nurse must put the soiled dressings in the proper recep- 
tacle, wash and disinfect all vessels and utensils, care- 
fully wash her hands in soap and water, and in a disin- 
fectant solution, as a five per cent, solution of carbolic 
acid, before going to another patient. Pyasmia and 
erysipelas should be the dread of a surgical nurse, and 
too great care cannot be taken to prevent any possible 
contamination, in going from one patient to another. 

In case of an infected patient he should if possible be 
removed from the ward ; but if this cannot be done he 
should be isolated as much as possible, and on no con- 
sideration should any of his bedding or clothing be used 
for any other patient until it has undergone the most 
thorough washing and disinfecting. 

Removing dr^issing. — The greatest care must be taken 
in removing dressings. If adherent to a wound, they 
should never be pulled off sharply, but should be moistened 
by bathing with warm water, or by the application of a 
bread poultice. The edges of the dressing should be wet, 



DRESSING OF WOUNDS. 61 

and then always raised all the way round, so that the 
last part that comes off should be that in the centre of 
the wound. In any case draw towards the wound, and 
when one end is loosened so far, the other end must be 
loosened in the same way, so that the wound may not be 
opened or any adhesions destroyed ; and in washing 
round the wound, wash towards the sore and not away 
from it. 

Cleansing. — Discharges should be cleansed away from 
the edges of a wound, and from the surrounding parts, 
but the surface of the wound itself should be left undis- 
turbed. 

If the case be one of operation, the nurse should 
know how many ligatures there are, so that she m&y 
know when any come away. She should never attempt 
to remove a ligature unless it is lying loose in tne 
wound. 

To cleanse the wound itself, it is best to use a syringe 
by which a continuous flow can be kept up. 

To wash a recently-inflicted wound cold water should 
be employed, as it has a tendency to stop the bleeding, 
while warm water favors it ; but in the case of old 
wounds or ulcers, warm water at a temperature of about 
98°, is better suited, being more grateful to the patient, 
and more effective in softening hardened dressings, and 
cleansing a foul surface. Some disinfecting fluid should 
be added to the water when the discharge is offensive, 
and the washing of the wound continued until the o£en- 
sive smell is destroyed. 

By means of the steady flow of water from the syringe 
the discharges are easily got rid of, and no part of tb" 



62 A MANUAL OF NUHSING. 

instrument need come in actual contact with the pa* 
tient. The fluid which has traversed the affected part 
should be received in a basin previously placed in a con- 
venient position. 

Caution. — In using the syringe the nurse must be care- 
ful not to let the fluid fly from the wound into her eyes, 
as the consequences would be most serious. She must 
also be careful not to touch the eyes with the fingers 
while engaged in dressing a wound. 

If the substance of which the plaster is composed ad- 
heres to the skin and cannot be washed, a little oil will 
effect its removal. 

KINDS OF DRESSINGS. 

Diy dressing. — Dry dressing is generally used as the 
first application to wounds. It consists of plaster and 
dry lint. The edges of the wound are brought together 
as nearly as possible by strips of plaster, and over these 
are placed a couple of folds of dry lint bound down by 
a few more strips of plaster. A bandage maybe applied 
over the whole if in a position to admit of it. 

Dry dressing may be allowed to remain on two or 
three days before it is removed. In the removal of this 
kind of dressing especial care must be taken to saturate 
the lint thoroughly with warm water while it is gently 
pulled away, so as to avoid tearing open the wound, and 
breaking down the union which may have taken place. 

Antiseptic dressing. — This mode of dressing has been 
lately introduced by Professor Lister, and for its use 
special carbolic acid dressings, solutions, and the spray 
apparatus are required. 



DRESSING OF WOUNDS. 63 

Water dressing.— Wsitev dressing is the application to 
a sore or wound of a piece of lint, soft linen, or charpie, 
saturated with water, and covered over with oiled silk, or 
thin india-rubber cloth, to prevent evaporation or the 
escape of moisture into the surrounding bed-clothes. 

The lint should be double, and of a size according to 
the surface to be covered. The waterproof material 
should be cut a little larger than the lint. Care should 
be taken that none of the lint projects from under the 
edge of the covering, for if such be the case the water 
will escape into the bandage and clothes, leaving the lint 
dry and sticking to the wound. Over the whole may be 
placed a common roller bandage. 

Water dressing should be renewed twice in every 
twenty-four hours, or more often if there be much dis- 
charge. 

Evaporating (^rmm^.— Evaporating dressing consists 
of a single fold of lint placed over the injured part, and 
freely exposed to the atmosphere to favor evaporation. 
The object in view is the production of cold by evapora- 
tion, and consequently a low temperature of the injured 
part. The lint should be of considerable size, and kept 
constantly wet, and the limb to which it is applied should 
be placed on a water-proof sheet, under a cradle, and com- 
pletely uncovered by bed-clothes. 

Jm^az^eow.— Irrigation is a stream of water conducted 
over an injured part to prevent inflammation [see pao-e 
51]. ^ ^ "" 

Ointment c^rmm^.—Ointments of various kinds are 
frequently used as dressings for ulcers and wounds. The 
ointment is spread with a spatula in a tliin layer on one 



64 A MANUAL OF NJJR8INQ. 

side of lint. The lint thus prepared is applied to the 
part, and maintained in position by a few cross strips of 
plaster, and if necessary a roller bandage. Once a day 
will be sufficient to dress an ulcer, except when the dis- 
charge is profuse, when it may be necessary to renew the 
application two or three times a day. Simple ointment 
is employed to prevent applications sticking to the sur- 
face of a sore. 

BANDAGES. 

Texture. — Bandages are made of unbleached muslin or 
flannel, torn or woven into strips which vary in breadth 
and length according to the part for which they are 
required. 

Breadth and length, — For the fingers, the breadth is 
about three-quarters of an inch ; for the head and upper 
extremity, two and a half inches ; and for the body and 
lower extremity, three inches. For the fingers, the length 
is from a yard to a yard and a half ; for the head and 
upper extremity, three to six yards ; for the lower ex- 
tremity and body, six to eight yards. 

Rolling a bandage. — Before applying a bandage it is 
necessary that it should be neatly and firmly rolled. It 
is rolled either with a single head or a double head. 

To roll a bandage with a single head. — One end of the 
bandage, being folded four or five times upon itself, 
is made into a small roll, which is seized by the fingers 
of both hands, and both thumbs placed on the top of it ; 
while the unrolled bandage, coming from the upper side 
of the roll over the fingers, is spread out on the floor in 
front of the person about to roll it. The thumbs now 



DRESSING OF WOUNDS. 65 

by an alternate movement, make the roll revolve inward 
on its own axis, while the fingers hold it fixed in position 
between the two hands. This movement is continued 
until the whole of the bandage is wound tightly and 
evenly round the original roll. The end should then be 
fastened by a stitch, pin, or thread, to prevent it unroll- 
ing. 

To roll a bandage with a double head. — The bandage 
should first be marked at its center, rolled from one end 
to this mark, and fastened, and then rolled in like man- 
ner from the other end. 

Plaster of Paris bandage or splint. — A plaster of Paris 
bandage is usually made as follows : Dust dry pow- 
dered gypsum into the meshes of a coarse muslin band- 
age, and roll it up ready for use. 

Envelope the limb in a flannel roller or layer of cotton- 
wool, soak the muslin roller, previously prepared, in 
water, and apply it over the flannel as an ordinary roller ; 
then rub it over with a thick paste of gypsum and water, 
making the outside perfectly smooth. Keep the limb in 
a proper position while the plaster sets, which it will in 
a few minutes. 

SPLINT PADDING. 

Splints made of wood, tin, or japanned iron, require 
to be lined with some description of soft padding befoie 
application. 

The head nurse of a ward should always keep one 
complete set of pads to the most commonly-used splints 
in readiness for any emergency. 



GG A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

Very good pads are made of three or more thicknesses 
of old blankets, or woolen rugs, covered on both sides 
with old linen sheeting, and quilted through in a large 
diamond pattern. These pads will wash. Another pad 
is made by teasing tow, covering it with soft muslin, and 
quilting it in the same way. 



CIIAPTER VIT. 
OPERATIONS. 

PREPARATION OF ROOM. 

QPERATIJS'G-TABLE.—TliQ operating-table must 
be furnished with a mattress and pillows, over 
which should be spread the sacking stretcher, covered by 
a clean sheet. A piece of waterproof sheeting should be 
ready to put round or under the patient, and a blanket 
to cover him. A wooden tray with sawdust should be 
under the table ready for use. 

Articles necessary. — The nurse should see that there 
are plenty of towels, wash-hand-basins and soap. Hot 
and cold water should be at hand, a solution of carbolic 
acid, carbolized oil, small bowls to receive discharges, 
sponges, flannel and muslin bandages of various sizes, 
cotton-wool, tow, lint, charpie, linen compresses, pins, 
needles, thread. It is well to have a little brandy on 
hand in case of patient being faint. 

Sponges. — Great care should be taken to see that the 
sponges are perfectly clean. They should be well 
washed in a solution of carbolic acid, then passed through 
several additions of clean cold water, and then left to 
stand in cold water until they are required. 

rcTl 



68 A MANUAL OF NUBSmO, 

If new sponges are to be used they must be perfectly 
free from the sand and little pieces of shell which are 
always to be found in them. They should be put in 
cold water to soak for two or three days previous to the 
time when they will he used, when they must be fre- 
quently squeezed out and the water changed. The shell 
will require to be picked out by the fingers, and some- 
times even to be cut out with the scissors. Among the 
sponges there must always be a number of pieces from 
one or two inches square and upwards. 

During the operation the nurse is usually required to 
clean and squeeze the sponges used. They should be 
washed in cold water and squeezed as dry as possible ; 
the best way being to place them in a cloth, and turn 
the two ends rapidly in opposite directions. 

PEEPAEATION OF PATIENT. 

Patient before the operation. — If possible, the patient 
should have a bath on the morning of the operation. If 
ether is to be administered the patient should have a 
pint of beef tea four hours before the operation, and 
should have nothing else^ except perhaps a little brandy, 
before the operation. In all operations on the parts 
about the bladder and rectum, an enema should be ad- 
ministered on the morning of the operation, and in many 
cases the bladder emptied by the catheter. 

The patient's clothes should be properly arranged be- 
forehand. All bands should invariably be loosened. The 
part to be operated on should be covered only by a loose 
article of dress, which can be thrown off in a moment. 



OPERATIONS. 69 

All dressings should be removed, and any wounds 
washed clean and lightly covered with a piece of wet 
lint or a turn or two of a roller. 

The bed which is to receive the patient should be 
made ready before the operation. 

After the operation. — After the operation the patient 
should be laid on his back on a clean bed, with his head 
somewhat raised so that he can breathe freely; care must 
be taken not to allow the chin to drop on the chest. He 
should be allowed plenty of fresh air, but at the same 
time be kept very warm, particularly about the feet, 
which should be wrapped in hot flannel or have hot bot- 
tles laid near them. If vomiting occur, he may be turned 
on his side and the head held over a basin, or if he cannot 
be turned, the head and body may generally be raised. 
Sucking small 2)ieces of ice will generally check sickness 
or vomiting. 

The nurse must be on the alert to see if any bleeding 
occur. Blood is most liable to escape at the lower part 
of a wound. Place a clean towel in such a way that the 
blood, if there is any, may soak into it, so that no con- 
siderable portion can be lost without noticing it. 

The patient requires to be carefully watched, and if 
any unusual depression be observed, it must be brought 
at once to the notice of the surgeon in charge. 

After most operations the patient should be prevented 
from frequently moving his position in bed, and in many 
cases all movement is forbidden. Nourishment must be 
given in accordance with the special instructions given 
on that point. 



•TO A MANUAL OF IfUBSmO. 



IMPORTANT POINTS IN SPECIAL OPEKA.TIONS. 

Amputation. — In amputations the plaster used for 
keeping flaps together should vary from one-half inch in 
the forearm to one and a half inches in the thigh; when 
changing, one piece only should be removed at a time, 
and be immediately replaced by a fresh one. The plas- 
ter should never be applied so as to press upon tlie end 
of the bone. The limb should be slightly raised, and a 
cradle placed over it to take off the weight of the bed 
clothes. 

The patient should never be left alone after an ampu- 
tation until all the ligatures have come away, as bleeding 
might come on at any time, in which case the nurse must 
at once make pressure at the bleeding point, and send for 
the surgeon. Ligatures of the small arteries usually sep- 
arate in a week or ten days, but those securing the larger 
ones, as the femoral, do not come away until after two or 
three weeks. 

JExcisio7i and resection of joints. — The surgeon will 
usually select a special splint for any particular case, and 
the nurse will be required to pad it. It is well to remem- 
ber that a small piece of oiled-silk should be placed on 
the splint under where the wound comes, to prevent the 
splint from being soiled by the discharges. This can be 
so laid on that it can be withdrawn from under the 
wound without raising the limb. The clean lint and the 
oiled silk can be tacked on to the dirty piece, and be gen- 
tly drawn through without disturbing the limb or giving 
pain. 



OPERATIONS. 71 

The extremity of the limb from which a joint has been 
removed should be kept wrapped up in cotton-wool, as 
otherwise the patient is very likely to feel the cold for 
the first few days. 

Hernia. — A hernia is a protrusion of a part of the 
bowels through an unnatural opening. In many cases 
the bowel can be returned and kept in position by wear- 
ing a well-fitting truss; but where an operation has been 
necessary, the patient should be kept strictly in the re- 
cumbent position, and if he vomit, or have a violent fit of 
coughing, it is a useful precaution for the nurse to sup- 
port the wound with her hand during this time of extra 
pressure. No food whatever should be given except that 
ordered by the surgeon, and that is usually ice, iced milk, 
beef tea, and a little brandy or wine for a few days. 

Lithotomy. — Lithotomy is the operation for removing 
stone from the bladder by cutting. After the operation 
the patient should be so placed in the bed that the dis- 
charges should either drain away at once, or be easily 
removed before they accumulate. The nurse should care- 
fully notice whether any fragment of stone come away, 
and how much urine, if any, passes through the natural 
opening. 

LitJiotrity. — Lithotrity is the operation of crushing a 
stone in the bladder. The patient should be kept in bed, 
and all the water passed should be collected and filtered, 
so that any fragment of stone that may escape may be 
reserved for the observation of the surgeon. 

Ovariotomy. — The patient should be kept quiet in bed 
on a simple, nourishing diet for three or four days pre- 
vious to the operation, and on that day should have no 



72 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

food except a pint of beef tea and a little brandy three 
or four hours before the operation; an enema should be 
administered, and the bladder emptied by the catheter 
beforehand. 

The room in which the operation is to be performed 
must be previously well warmed, and a constant temper- 
ature of about 70° be maintained; the air may also be 
kept moist by keeping a kettle of water boiling on the 
fire. A supply of fresh air should be secured without 
exposing the patient to a draught. The following is a 
list of things the nurse should provide: a small bath, to 
hold the fluid; one or two buckets; three or four bleed- 
ing bowls; two dozen sponges, quite new, and perfectly 
clean; one dozen towels; several basins with clean, cold 
water, to wash the sponges; boiling water, with four new 
yard-squares of flannel, previously passed through water 
to make them soft, ready for fomentations, if required; 
new wringers; olive oil; carbolic lotion; brandy; stick- 
ing plaster and lint; a rib roller of cotton, and one of 
flannel; a many-tailed bandage, of ten or twelve inches 
wide, and one yard and a quarter long. 

The dress of the patient should be such as to necessi- 
tate the least possible movement after the operation. In 
any changes of bed or body linen, care must be taken to 
have everything well aired and warmed beforehand. 
Nothing cold must be allowed to touch the patient. The 
bed-pan must be warmed with hot water, the edge oiled 
so as to slip readily into position. The nurse will receive 
full instructions from the operator in regard to the care 
of the patient after the operation, as to food, tempera- 
ture of room, etc. 



OPERATIONS. 73 

Cleft palate. — After this operation the patient must 
neither be allowed to speak nor take solid food until he 
has permission from the surgeon. The nurse must be 
watchful, and make sure that no blood runs down the 
throat unnoticed by her. 

Tracheotomy. — The nursing of a patient after trache- 
otomy requires great skill and attention. The tube must 
be kept free from clogging by means of a feather, and 
the inner one has to be removed from time to time for 
thorough cleansing, when care has to be taken to prevent 
pulling out both tubes together. 

The head and chest of the patient must be well sup- 
ported by pillows, care being taken that the head be not 
pressed forward upon the chest, and that the pillows at 
the back shall be so placed as to give the lungs free play. 

When the cough comes on the nurse must be instantly 
on hand to give all the help she can to prevent the patient 
from being suffocated. Children, especially, are apt to 
throw themselves about, and even to clutch at the tube 
with their fingers, by which means they might fall into a 
position that would be fatal, or pull the tube out of the 
throat. When attending to the patient during the cough, 
the nurse must be careful that she does not put her own 
face near enough to catch by accident any discharge from 
the tube, which sometimes is forced out with some vio- 
lence, as the result would be dangerous to herself, partic- 
ularly where the operation had been performed on a 
patient suffering from diphtheria. 

The room is generally kept at a temperature of 70°, 
and the air moist by the aid of steam from boiling water. 

If enemata be ordered, the nurse must remember that 
4 



74 A MANUAL OF JWRSING. 

the patient cannot lie down with safety. She must make 
such an arrangement of pillows and supports as will ena- 
ble her to place her patient in such a position as would 
let the syringe act. 



CHAPTER Vm. 



80ME POINTS IN REGARD TO SPECIAL MEDICAL 
CASES. 



FEVERS. 

T>ED. — The bed for a fever patient should be pro\'ided 
with a rubber sheet and draw-sheet. It should not 
be near that of another patient seriously ill. 

Ventilation. — ^Ventilation, always important, is doubly 
so here, and in order that the air the patient breathes be 
pure, there must be a constant supply of fresh air from 
open windows and ventilators. The patient need not be 
chilled in doing this, but may be kept warm with bed 
clothes and hot bottles. 

Guard against bed-sores. — In fever a patient lies on his 
back without moving much, and often the evacuations 
are passed almost without his cognizance; bed-sores must 
be guarded against, and air or water cushions used as 
necessary to take off pressiu-e and prevent inflammation. 
Where the confinement to bed is likely to be prolonged, 
a water bed, if procurable, should be used. 

Cleanliness. — The clothing of the bed and patient 
should be changed daily, and of tener if necessary. 

/Sponging. — When frequent sponging of the body with 

[751 



76 A MANUAL OF NUBSma: 

cold or tepid water, with or without vinegar or alcohol, 
is ordered, only a small portion should be sponged at a 
time. The sponge should be passed in only one direc- 
tion, and that downward, and the skin must be dried 
with a warm, soft towel, all rubbing being avoided. 

Cold pack. — To give a cold pack, take all the clothes 
off the bed; lay over the mattress two comfortables and 
a blanket, or three blankets; wring a sheet out in cold 
water and place over the whole. Then put the patient 
on the bed, the clothing having previously been removed. 
Fold one side of the sheet over the patient under the 
arms, then the other side over the arms ; tuck in well 
around the neck. Then wrap blankets and comfortables 
over in the same way. Twenty minutes is the average 
time for keeping a patient in the pack. The patient 
should feel warm in about five minutes, and in ten min- 
utes will usually be comfortable enough to go to sleep, if 
not too sick. 

Use a small slice of lemon or a little salt to cleanse the 
teeth and gums, rubbing it gently over teeth, tongue, and 
lips. Then with a little pure cold water and a charpie 
brush rapidly wash over the same. The mouth may be 
washed with carbolic acid spray. 

The feet and legs of the patient must be examined 
from time to time to see that they do not become cold. 
Where any tendency to chill is discovered, hot bottles, 
or warm flannels, with some warm drink, should be made 
use of until the temperature is restored. 

The patient must not be annoyed by flies. By tying 
strings across the bed, gauze or netting may be supported 
away from the patient's face. 



SPECIAL MEDICAL CASES. 77 

Hours for nourishment and stimulants will be exactly- 
ordered by the physician. The diet is generally liquid, 
consisting of milk, broths, thin gruel and beef tea. Cool- 
ing drinks are given in small quantities at frequent inter- 
vals. Small bits of ico are very refreshing. The nurse 
must ascertain from the physician if the patient should 
be wakened to take either nourishment or medicine. 

Every contrivance must be employed to save the 
patient's strength during the first stage of convalescence. 
Pillows of different forms and sizes should be so placed as 
to prop the body into the most comfortable position for 
the time. This is the stage at which the nurse must ex- 
ercise her ingenuity to interest and amuse the patient. 

ERUPTIVE FEVERS. 

Many of the directions already given for fevers should 
also be followed in eruptive fevers. 

For the early stages, when the skin is very hot, a warm 
bath or tepid sponging will prove refreshing, taking care 
that the patient does not become chilled. Cleanse the 
eyes and nostrils with water and a piece of lint as often 
as required. In small-pox when the pustules have burst 
this is all that is practicable. In this disea.se early appli- 
cation of light poultices to the face have been found a 
great comfort and a protection against pitting. To allay 
itching, oil the pustules on the face, neck and body with 
olive oil, cold cream, etc. This oiling of the body is very 
useful also in scarlet fever, and helps to lower the tem- 
perature. Cocoa butter is frequently used for this pur- 
pose. In small-pox the nurse must examine the body 



78 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

carefully, and if she finds any signs of abscess forming 
should report it to the physician. 

BED-SOKES — ^PREVENTION AND TREATMENT. 

From the first beginning of a confinement to the bed 
which is likely to be a long one, the nurse must bear in 
mind the liability of bed-sores, and the necessity of using 
all possible care for preventing them. 

The patient must be kept clean and dry. This is a very 
difficult thing to do in some cases, and requires the most 
constant care and attention on the part of the nurse. In 
cases of paralysis of the lower part of the body, where 
the patient is unable to turn in bed, and the evacuations 
are passed involuntarily, bed-sores can be avoided only 
by the most unceasing attention to cleanliness. The back 
should be washed with warm water and soap, and well 
dried with a soft towel. Afterwards a little oxide of 
zinc powder may be used to insure perfect dryness. If 
the back be well rubbed with some spirits, or alcohol and 
water, it tends to harden the skin, and renders it less 
likely to become sore. The nurse should examine the 
back every day, and if she finds that her patient is threat- 
ened with a sore, let her take a piece of amadon plaster, 
an inch larger all round than the size of the tender skin, 
and from the centre of this cut another just large enough 
to prevent the plaster touching the tenderest part of the 
threatened sore. If this circular piece of plaster be then 
applied, the thickness of it will remove the pressure on 
the part. 

Circular water and air cushions are a ^reat aid in pre- 



SPECIAL MEDICAL CASES. 79 

venting bed-sores, and give great relief where one actu- 
ally exists. Circular pillows with a hole in the centre 
may also be made from old, soft linen, and stuffed with 
tow. 

Another very important thing to be remembered in 
the prevention of bed-sores, is the necessity of keeping 
the under sheet smooth and free from wrinkles or crumbs. 



CHAPTER IX, 

EMERGENCIES. 

^T^IIE following articles are often required in the treat - 
ment of emergencies, and the head nurse of a sur- 
gical ward should have them where they may be obtained 
at a moment's notice : 

Articles often required. — Tins for applying hot water 
to the feet or abdomen, mustard and linseed meal for 
poultices, cotton-wool, tow, lint, bandages, pads for the 
most commonly-used splints, sponges, scissors, pins, stick- 
ing-plaster, olive oil, sand-bags, fillets, extra pillows, chaff 
pillows, brandy, a tourniquette, an artery forceps, and 
some ligatures. 

Preparation of bed. — There should be certain beds 
reserved for accidents. These should always be kept 
ready for use. Under the mattress should be placed frac- 
ture boards, to prevent the bed from sinking in the cen- 
tre. Where not required these can afterwards be re- 
moved. The bed should be provided with a large rubber 
sheet for the protection of the mattress, and a draw-sheet 
should be placed across the middle of the bed. It may 
be needed there, or be used for the protection of the pil- 
low, as the nature of the accident may require. A change 
of linen for the patient should be placed on the bed. 
[80J 



EMEUGENCIES. 81 



FRACTURES. 



Different kinds of fracture. — Fractures may be simple, 
compound, and comminuted. 

Simple. — When a bone is broken in one place without 
any external wound. 

Compound. — When a bone is broken in one place, and 
there is an external wound leading down to the broken 
bone. 

Comminuted. — When a bone is broken in two or more 
places, as when a splinter of bone is broken off. 

What can be done hy the nurse.— In the following cases, 
if the nurse has to wait the arrival of the surgeon, she 
can in the mean time proceed according to these simple 
directions : 

S/mll. — Put the patient in bed, and keep wet lint ap- 
plied over the seat of injury. 

Collar-bo7ie.—Keep the patient in bed, without a pil- 
low, with the arm on the injured side folded across the 
chest. 

Hibs. — The patient should remain in bed, should have 
a spittoon within reach, and the character of the expec- 
toration be noticed. 

Thigh, leg, or ar«25.— The limb should be temporarily 
kept in position by means of sand-bags or pillows secured 
by fillets. 

HEMORRHAGE. 

Three methods of arresting hemorrhage.— TherQ are 
three methods of stopping bleeding, with which the nurso 
should be familiar ; 
4* 



83 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

1. Pressure at the bleeding point. Blood may often 
be seen to flow from one small point only of a wound ; 
slight pressure with one finger, or the ball of the thumb 
over the spot will usually stop it, as long as the pressure 
is kept up, and often altogether, even after the pressure 
is removed. 

2. Pressure on the main artery supplying the wound. 
To be able to make this pressure on the exact spot re- 
quires a knowledge of the distribution of the main arte- 
ries of the body. Where this is wanting, the nurse may 
apply a roller bandage as tightly as possible around the 
limb above the wound ; this pressure must not be kept 
up very long, as mortification may be produced by it. 

3. The application of cold. This plan answers best 
when the bleeding is from several points scattered over 
a large surface ; it is conveniently applied by letting cold 
water drip from a sponge on to the bleeding surface, or by 
the application of ice. 

The part from which the blood comes should be raised 
above the rest of the body, and if the patient 'become 
faint he should not be roused immediately, since faintness 
acts as nature's remedy by lessening the force and activ- 
ity of the flow of blood. 

Arterial and venous hemorrhage. — Blood from the 
arteries is of a bright red color, and bursts out in spurts ; 
while venous blood is purplish-red, and flows in a steady 
stream. 

Rupture of varicose vein. — One common source of 
sudden bleeding is that which proceeds from the rupture 
of a varicose vein in the leg. The treatment in this case 
will consist in laying the patient down, raising the limb, 



EMERGENCIES. 83 

and applying steady pressure by a pad and bandage to 
the bleeding point. 

Bleeding from the nose. — Epistaxis, or bleeding from 
the nose, is seldom serious, and may generally be controlled 
by the application of cold water. The patient should be 
kept upright, with his head thrown back and his hands 
raised above his head, with a sponge or some cotton-wool 
over his nose to receive the blood, but should on no ac- 
count be allowed to stand with his head bent down over 
a basin, wliich encourages the bleeding. 

Internal hemorrhage. — In addition to hemorrhage from 
external wounds, blood may also come from the interior 
of the body, and a nurse is sometimes required to supply 
information as to the character of this blood, from which 
the physician may judge of its origin. 

Haemoptysis, or spitting of blood. Blood from the 
lungs is generally coughed up, is frothy, mixed with mu- 
cus, in small quantity, and of a bright red color. 

Haematemesis, or vomiting of blood. Blood from 
the stomach is vomited up, mixed with particles of food, 
in large quantity, and dark red or even black in color. 

Blood from the back of the throat, gums, and mouth 
generally is of a red color, usually mixed with saliva, and 
is neither coughed nor vomited up unless previously swal- 
lowed. 

Foreign substances, as logwood, brick-dust, port-wine, 
and other things, are often purposely mixed with the 
saliva by hysterical patients, who not unfrequently also 
pick their gums, bite their lips, or suck at the socket of 
a tooth until it bleed, in order to create sympathy. 

In the case of female patients, bleeding from the womb 



84 A MAJWAL OF NURSING. 

at other than the menstrual periods should always be at 
once reported to the physician. 

The quantity of blood lost by a patient should always 
be carefully noted. 

INSENSIBLE PATIENTS. 

No violent measures should be used to arouse a patient 
who is insensible. Lay him in bed, loosen any bands, 
and let him have a free access of air. 

Notice whether the breathing is quiet or noisy, regular 
or irregular, whether there are any convulsive movements 
of the limbs, whether the urine or feces be passed invol- 
untarily, whether the pupils of both eyes are alike, or 
larger or smaller than natural, whether the patient will 
bear to have his eyes touched, and whether he can be 
aroused at all. 

In all cases of apparent insensibility, the nurse should 
be careful to say nothing about the patient within his 
hearing. Though he can neither speak nor move, he may 
yet be perfectly conscious of what is passing round him. 

DELIRIOUS PATIENTS. 

Avoid any roughness in dealing with delirious patients, 
but always be firm, and never let them see that you are 
afraid of them or inclined to let them have their own 
way. Do not attempt to argue with them, or to contra- 
dict any of their assertions, but at the same time it is 
well to appear interested in their con^rersation. See that 
the lower parts of the windows are carefully fastened 



EMERGENCIES. 85 

down, and that there are no knivtjs or dangerous weapons 
within reach of the patient. A nurse should never be 
left alone with a patient in violent delirium, unless im- 
mediate assistance is available at a moment's notice. 

PAINTNESS. 

In any case of faintness, the patient should be at once 
placed in a recumbent position, all tight clothing about 
the neck and chest be loosened, and a supply of fresh 
cold water secured. If there be only slight faintness, it 
may be all that is necessary to place the patient in a cold 
draught of air. Where there is complete loss of conscious- 
ness, water dashed on the face or chest, or applied by 
means of a wet towel, striking the palms of the hands 
and rubbing them rapidly, are good means of restoration. 
A plate may be dipped in hot water and placed over the 
stomach. Smelling salts, or any preparation of ammonia, 
should not be used too persistently, as they are liable to 
injure the lining membrane of the respiratory passages. 

BURNS. 

First treatment of hums. — If a person has been badly 
burnt, as by the clothes taking fire, the greatest care must 
be taken in their removal not to remove also some por- 
tion of the skin or flesh to which they will adhere. This 
may be avoided by making the clothes quite wet. It will 
be also necessary to cut the clothing more or less in 
removing it. The first thing to be done in the treatment 
of burns, whether superficial or deep, whether extending 



86 A MANUAL OF NUJ^SINO. 

over a large or small surface, is to exclude atmosplieriG 
air. This may be done by keeping the part wrapped up 
in cloths saturated with sweet oil ; or a thick layer of 
flour may be placed over the burnt surface, and then cov- 
ered with cotton. Carron oil, which is a mixture of equal 
parts of linseed oil and lime-water, is one of the best 
remedies for a burn. 

STrN"GS AND BITES. 

Stings of bees, wasps, mosquitoes— ^img?, of bees, wasps, 
etc., may become dangerous, in case of numerous bites, 
as from a swarm of bees. Apply cooling lotions, or a 
cold poultice, or rub the parts with olive-oil. Ammonia- 
water is useful in allaying the irritation from mosquito- 
bites. 

JBites from a mad dog or snake. — A wound inflicted by 
a dog suspected of madness, or by poisonous reptiles, 
should be washed by holding it under a stream of water 
for a few seconds, where this can be done without 
delay, after which the attempt must be made to remove 
the poison by suction. If water be not close at hand, 
apply the lips at once and suck out the poison. After 
this the wound must be deeply burnt with a hot iron, as 
a red-hot poker, until the surface is charred and dry. Or, 
if this cannot be done immediately, the bitten part should 
be cut out, the excision extending some distance into the 
healthy tissue. The burning is the surest remedy, and it 
is even considered necessary where the knife has been 
previously used. A string tied tightly around the limb 
may help to prevent the absorption of the poison. 



EMERGENCIES. 8? 

There is no case where immediate action is more imper- 
ative. The question of life or death is decided in a few 
minutes. It is therefore necessary that the non-profes- 
sional person know what to do, for if there be any delay 
and the poison becomes absorbed, the greatest medical 
science is at present unable to avert the fatal conse- 
quences. 

FOREIGN BODIES. 

When anything has lodged in the throat causing chok- 
ing or suffocation, a smart blow on the back between 
the shoulders will in many cases send the substance out 
of the mouth. Should this fail, hold up the body by the 
feet (in the case of a child), and let another j^erson strike 
between the shoulders with the open hand. This process 
should only last for a moment. Look in the throat and 
see if the substance can be reached ; seize hold of it 
with the thumb and finger, or a pair of blunt-pointed 
scissors, and pull it out. 

If there is only a small substance in the throat, causing 
a troublesome tickling cough, give bread, followed by a 
drink of water, and if this is not sufficient, give a little 
mustard and warm water as an emetic, and after vomiting 
there will probably be no further trouble. 

In the nose. — When any small article, as peas, beans, 
pebbles, etc., have been pushed into the nose, they may 
often be removed by snuff, or any other substance which 
will produce sneezing, being introduced into the opposite 
nostril, or by the use of a pair of forceps or blunt-pointed 
scissors, care being taken not to push the substance back y^ 



88 A MANUAL OF mmsmG. 

into the throat. Peas and beans are the more dangerous, 
as they increase in size by the absorption of moisture. 

In the ear. — Insects in the ear are removed by plugging 
the external opening with a piece of cotton saturated 
with a solution of salt or vinegar, so as to prevent the 
admission of air. Then let the patient lie on the affected 
side, and press the hand firmly on the ear. After a few 
minutes the insect may be found imbedded in the cotton. 
Or, lay the patient on the opposite side, and fill the ear 
with oil. 

A small stream of water from a syringe will often 
remove small bodies or sand. If any substance can be 
readily seized with the forceps they may be used for this 
purpose ; but very little force must be used or the sub- 
stance will be pushed still further in, rupturing the drum 
of the ear, and permanent deafness be the result. 

In the eye. — For the removal of dirt, sand, etc., from 
the eye, it will often suffice to lift the upper lid away 
from the eye-ball by taking hold of the lashes, drawing 
it down over the lower lid, and allowing it to slide slowly 
back. Then wipe the edges with a handkerchief to re- 
move the foreign body from the lashes. Or, take some- 
thing hard, like a knitting-needle or pencil, and press it 
across the outside of the upper lid, then take hold of the 
lashes and make the lid turn over the pencil, and the sub- 
stance will generally be seen sticking to the delicate 
membrane which lines the lids, when it can be gently 
washed or rubbed off. 

SUITSTEOKE. 

This is a sudden prostration due to long exposure to 



EMEBOENGIES. 89 

great heat. The same effect is produced by the heat of 
the sun, and by prolonged confinement in the heated 
atmosphere of a building. Persons of intemperate hab- 
its, or those who are debilitated, or much fatigued or ex- 
hausted, are most liable to the attack. It begins with 
pain in the head or dizziness, the limbs become weak and 
refuse to give support, and loss of consciousness quickly 
follows. The head is very hot, the face red and swollen, 
the breathing labored and snoring, and the extremities 
cold. 

The patient should be placed in a cool room, or in a 
cool, shady place, the head should be elevated, the cloth 
ing loosened, cloths wet in ice-water applied to the head, 
and mustard or turpentine to the soles of the feet and 
calves of the leg. As soon as the patient can swallow, a 
little stimulant may be given, and further treatment left 
till the arrival of the physician. 

CONVULSIONS. 

The treatment of convulsions in children is given else- 
where. 

In other cases, it is often difficult to distinguish be- 
tween a convulsive fit which is the result of epilepsy and 
that caused by hysteria. 

The following are the main points on which it is desir- 
able that the nurse be able to give exact information : 

1. What is the condition of the patient | 
before the fit? ) 

2. Does the patient cry out? I ^* -r^ ' ,, 

^ - J H. Repeatedly 



90 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

3. Does the patient injure herself by ) 

biting the tongue, falling heavily, or f tt -o i 
striking the furniture ? ) ' ^' 

4. How long does the fit last ? )■ 

5. Will the patient bear having the ) E. Always. 
eyes touched ? j H. Rarely. 

6. Does the patient have involuntary ^ 
evacuations from the bowels or blad- ( ^- Frequently, 
der during the fit? * ) ^' Seldom. 

,^, . , ^ , . ^ E. Stupid, dull 

7. What IS the state of the patient / headache 
after the fit? j H. Drowsy.' 

„ A xi • ^1 ^- o ) E. Sometimes. 

8. Are there any worms m the motions r (. ^_. ^ , 

^ j H. Ilarel}^ 

The treatment to be adopted is to lay the patient on 
the bed or floor, loosen the clothing about the neck and 
chest ; if the patient be in the habit of biting the tongue, 
insert, if possible, a piece of wood between the teeth, or 
a folded towel, and clear away the frothy discharge from 
the mouth. In an hysterical attack, strike the face and 
chest with a towel wet with ice-water. 

POISONS. 

General rule. — As a general rule in cases of poisoning 
the patient should be made to vomit as soon as possible. 
Give at once a teaspoonful of mustard in a tumbler of 
warm water, or two teaspoonfuls of powdered alum in 
the same way. 

Poisoning from acids. — When poisoned by acids give 

* While coming out of the fit the hysterical patient will fre- 
quently pass a large amount of urine. 



EMERQENCIES. 91 

alkalies, as a solution of carbonate of soda in water, or 
lime water ; magnesia or chalk may be given, also strong 
soap-suds with plenty of water afterwards. 

From alkalies. — When the alkalies, as caustic potash, 
soda or ammonia, have been taken by mistake, acids 
should be given, vinegar and water, lemons, oranges ; 
give later olive oil. 

Opium. — The first thing of importance in the treat- 
ment of poisoning from opium, is to give an emetic ; 
after vomiting give strong coffee, and, if possible, do 
not let the person sleep. Strike the soles of the feet, 
walk him about, do anything to arouse him. 

Arsenic, copper, <&c. — In poisoning from arsenic, cop- 
per, and other metallic substances, give milk and raw 
eggs, afterwards mucilaginous drinks, as flaxseed tea. 



CHAPTER X. 

MONTHLY NURSING. 

pREPARA TION'S of the room and of the patient.— 
As soon as labor has commenced there are certain 
general preparations of the room and of the patient, to 
which the nurse must give her attention. 

Room. — The room should be light, warm, and well 
ventilated, and, in private nursing, as retired as possible. 
But few persons should be admitted to the room, and 
only those whose presence is a comfort to tlie patient. 
Friends who cannot control their agitation ought not to 
be permitted to add to the distress of the patient. As 
a rule, it is desirable to have no more than one or two 
persons besides the nurse and physician in the room. 

Things needed. — The nurse should have ready some 
sweet oil, or other mild emollient, for the physician's use, 
in examining the patient, also water, soap and towels. 
She must see that a supply of hot and cold water be 
ready when required. Ice may be demanded in case of 
hemorrhage, and should always be where it can be 
quickly obtained. The following articles will also be 
needed : scissors, and narrow silk or linen tape, for tying 
and cutting the cord ; a blanket for receiving the child 
as soon as it is separated from the mother ; a small bath- 
tub for bathing the child ; a clean and soft sponge ; white 
[93J 



MONTHLY NURSING. 93 

castile soap ; a soft towel ; some pieces of old linen for 
dressing the navel ; a flannel bandage ; diapers ; a flan- 
nel petticoat ; a simple muslin dress, and a blanket to 
wrap about the child when dressed. The garments may 
be fastened by means of tapes, or a needle and thread 
may be found convenient for the flannel bandage, and 
the petticoat band. A change of linen for the mother, a 
bandage and shield pins, a clean sheet and draw sheet 
will be needed after the termination of labor. 

^e^, — It is important that the bed for confinement be 
not too low, and that the mattress be hard and not very 
yielding. The mattress must be protected with the rub- 
ber cloth and draw sheet, according to directions which 
have already been given. A small quilt, or piece of a 
quilt, may well be used over the rubber cloth, and under 
the draw sheet ; this will help to absorb some of the 
fluids, and thus prevent their spreading. It is much the 
best way to have a clean bed to which the patient can be 
removed after the termination of labor, but this is often 
not practicable. The bed should not be against the wall, 
as it is desirable that the nurse be able to approach both 
sides of it. 

During labor the patient will need some support for 
the feet and hands. The foot-board of the bed may 
answer for the feet, or a box or stool may be placed be- 
tween the foot-board and the feet of the patient. A 
sheet fastened to the foot of the bed is generally found 
to be a convenient support for the hands, and furnishes 
something upon which she can draw during the latter 
part of labor. 

Precautio7i.—Duxmg the progress of the labor the 



94 A MANUAL OF NURSmO. 

nurse must take care that the bed-clothing get as little 
soiled as possible ; also, in private nursit g, the carpet 
may be spared any injury by spreading a rug over it on 
the right side of the bed. Under the bed, or near at 
hand, should be a vessel for receiving the after-birth. 

Preparation of patient. — In preparmg the patient for 
labor, the hair must be brushed, and is most conveniently 
arranged in two braids. The nurse should always give 
a simple enema even if the bowels have been moved 
within a few hours. In most cases the patient has 
a frequent desire to urinate, but where this is want- 
ing she should be encouraged to make the attempt 
from time to time in the early part of labor. While 
the pains are still light, nourishment should be taken 
to keep up the strength. Soup and beef-tea are easily 
digested, and can generally be taken. Stimulants should 
be avoided. 

Pains. — There are often slight pains occurring from 
time to time for several weeks before labor really begins. 
In the first stage of labor the pains are usually short, with 
long intervals between them. They are often accompa- 
nied with nervous shiverings and tremors. The pains are 
due to the uterine contractions, and the hand placed over 
the abdomen will feel the uterine walls grow firm beneath 
it. These pains have been called preparative, and they 
effect tho dilation of the mouth of the uterus. They last 
for a longer time usually in the woman who has never 
before borne children. 

The patient may at this time be dressed for the bed, 
but over the night-dress she may have on a warm wrap- 
per and whatever else is necessary, so that she may walk 



MONTHLY NURSING. 95 

about sometimes between the pains if she feels so inclined. 
By this means the progress of the labor is slightly fur- 
thered, and the change of position and movement help to 
relieve the weariness of the patient. In the case of a 
woman who has already borne children, and especially if 
previous labors have been short, it may be advisable that 
she go to bed in the early stages of labor. 

Rupture of the membranes. — It is also well in the case 
of a first labor to prepare the mind of the patient for the 
rupturing of the bag of waters and the escape of the fluid. 
Much soiling of the bed may be avoided by placing a 
large sponge or some old linen between the thighs and 
somewhat under the hips, to absorb the discharges. 

Second stage of labor. — The pains of the second stage 
of labor are called expulsive. The mouth of the uterus 
is now fully dilated, the bag of Avaters is usually broken 
before this stage or in the early part of it, and the force 
of the uterine contractions is expended in pushing the 
child down out of the uterus and through the vagina. 
The pains are longer and more severe than the prepara- 
tory ones, and the interval between them gradually be- 
comes shorter. Before this stage the patient should not 
be allowed to waste her strength in any bearing-down 
efforts, but now as the child is descending she can aid the 
contractions by bearing down with each pain, while she 
draws upon the sheet previously fastened to the foot of 
the bed. The patient will need to be encouraged to bear 
the pains bravely, and to help herself as much as possible, 
and not retard the progress of the labor by tossing about, 
or by crying out with the severity of her sufferings. 

The pressure upon the rectum will often give the feel- 



96 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

ing of a desire to empty the bowels, but the nurse must 
never allow her patient to get out of bed at this stage. 

How to relieve the pains in the hack. — The pains, both 
of the first and second stages of labor, are often accom- 
panied by most distressing pains in the back. These may 
be much relieved by supporting the back with the hand 
at the time of the pains, or a hard pillow may be placed 
under the lower part of the back ; or a towel may be 
passed under the loins and the ends held by two persons, 
one on each side of the bed, and by this the patient can 
be slightly raised, enough to give support to the back 
during the pains. The patient is often troubled by cramps 
in the thighs and legs, which are relieved by rubbing. 

As soon as the head of the child begins to press upon 
the outside parts, the patient must desist from all her 
efforts at straining, as it is desirable that these parts be 
gradually stretched, to avoid, if possible, any rupture. 

What to do after the head is horn. — After the head is 
born, the nurse places her hand firmly over the uterus, 
and at the time of the next pain presses down from above 
while the body of the child is being expelled. This pres- 
sure favors the after contraction of the uterus and helps 
to prevent hemorrhage. There is usually a moment of 
rest after the head is born before the body is expelled. 
The nurse should have in the pocket of her apron, or close 
at hand, a pair of blunt-pointed scissors, and two pieces 
of cord, each about half a yard long, ready for use as they 
are required. The blanket to receive the child should 
also be ready. 

What to do after the hirth of the child. — After the cord 
has been tied, she will take the child from the physician 



MONTHLY mmsma. 91 

and lay it aside, well wrapped up, or give it into the care 
of some other person who may be present. There will 
usually be some large clots in the bed which are dis- 
charged after the child. These the nurse now removes, 
putting them in the vessel which is to receive the after- 
birth. Sometimes a good deal of liquid comes away at 
the same time. As much as can be is now wiped up to 
prevent its spreading, but the patient is not cleansed until 
after the after-birth has come away. This sometimes 
follows immediately after the child, but often not for 
half an hour or longer. During this time the physician 
gives his attention to the mother, and the nurse can 
take the opportunity to wash the child. She has pre- 
viously got everything ready except the water, so that 
no longer time than necessary be taken now. By the 
time this is accomplished the mother will generally re- 
quire the care of the nurse. 

Care of the mother. — The soiled things must be re- 
moved from the bed ; a clean and dry part of the draw- 
sheet which is already on the bed can be put under the 
hips for a moment while the nurse bathes the parts with 
warm water, and dries them carefully with a soft towel. 
No more washing of the patient than is really necessary 
should be done at this time. The soiled clothing must 
be removed. But little moving of the patient should be 
done, and she must not be allowed to move or help her- 
self in the least, or hemorrhage will be liable to occur. 
The bandage of the patient is put on as soon as possible, 
and pinned snugly so as to give support to the relaxed 
abdominal walls. A folded towel is placed so as to re- 
ceive the discharges, and pinned to the bandage behind 
5 



98 A MANUAL OF NUBSmO, 

and in front. If the patient is to be transferred to a 
clean bed, two persons will be required, one to lift from 
the shoulders, the other to lift the thighs and hips. If 
she is to remain in the same bed, clean, dry, and warm 
things must be substituted for the soiled ones. 

Z^ook out for signs of hemorrhage. — The patient should 
now be left to sleep. No one should be in the room but 
the nurse. All talking must be avoided. The nurse 
must, however, examine the patient from time to time, 
to see that she is not flowing too much. She should also 
notice whether the face of the patient becomes pallid, 
and the pulse weak. She can do this quietly without 
disturbing the patient. If the face and lips are pale and 
the pulse feeble, and the patient feels faint, though there 
are no signs of external hemorrhage, the head should be 
lowered and the hips slightly raised. The nurse must 
feel over the abdomen, pressing down deeply, so as to 
ascertain if the uterus has relaxed. In which case the 
bandage must be unpinned, and firm, circular rubbing 
over the uterus continued until it contracts down into a 
firm, hard ball, felt just above the symphysis pubis. 

Question of stimulants in faintness. — There will some- 
times be the above signs of hemorrhage, pallor and faint- 
ness, and no cause be found for it. The nurse can then 
only lower the head, and in the absence of the physician 
give a little stimulant cautiously while awaiting his 
arrival. He should be sent for at once, and, if near at 
hand, it will not be necessary for the nurse to give the 
stimulant, for it is only in an extreme case that stimulants 
should be given to a woman who has just been confined, 
and then they should be given in moderate doses, — as a 



MONTHLY NURSING. 9& 

teaspoonful of brandy, — or they will be likely to prove 
a daagerous remedy. Nature demands that the woman 
rest after labor. The circulation is slackened, and the 
nutritive processes for the time diminished ; if now the 
circulation be excited by stimulants, there is reason to 
fear the setting in of fever. So when stimulants are 
given it is only when the circulation becomes so feeble 
that the woman is fainting, and we only want to give 
enough to prevent it. Sometimes there is a feeling of 
faintness from exhaustion from want of food, and it is 
relieved by milk. The latter is always a safe remedy. 

What can the nurse do if the physician has not ar- 
rived? — It may sometimes happen that the nurse will find 
herself in sole charge of the patient at the time of the birth 
of the child. The child sometimes arrives sooner than it is 
anticipated, or the physician is by accident detained, and 
no other can be readily procured, which not infrequently 
happens in the country. We will, therefore, give some di- 
rections which may help the nurse at this crisis. We would, 
however, say here that no nurse should voluntarily un- 
dertake the entire charge of a midwifery patient. Cer- 
tainly, no intelligent nurse who has a knowledge of some 
of the numerous accidents which are liable to occur 
would be willing to assume such a responsibility. 

If, during labor, the parts about the vulva are rigid, 
hot and dry, they should be thoroughly lubricated with 
oil or vaseline. 

Care about the cord. — As soon as the head is born it 
is important to see whether the cord be wound around 
the neck of the child. If it encircle the neck but once, 
it may be drawn slightly, so as to loosen it enough to 



100 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

pass it over the head. If encircling the head more than 
once, the loosest coil may generally be loosened a little 
more, so that it will pass over the head, after which the 
others will follow easily. If this cannot be done, the 
coils may be loosened enough to prevent strangulation 
of the child, and their removal left till after the expul- 
sion of the body. 

As soon as the head is born an assistant should place 
her hand on the abdomen, over the uterus, and make 
firm pressure downwards at the time of the next pain, 
which usually comes in a minute or two after the head is 
born. This pressure, with gentle manipulation of the 
uterus, is continued by the assistant until after the ex- 
pulsion of the after-birth. 

What to do if the body is delayed. — The nurse should 
never draw upon the head, but if the pressure and 
manipulation does not expel the body, after waiting a 
few minutes, she may introduce into the vagina the first 
finger of the right hand, pass it along the back of the 
child, hook it under the arm, then draw gently but firmly 
until the shoulder passes over the perineum. The rest of 
the body will immediately follow. 

The child should now be laid near enough to the 
mother to prevent any drawing on the cord, but at the 
same time in such a position that it shall not be choked 
by the fluids which have escaped or are escaping from 
the vulva. The pulse in the cord soon becomes irregular 
and finally ceases. It should then be tied in two places. 
Tying of the cord. — The knot is the more firm if, in mak- 
ing the first tie, the end makes two turns under the part 
which is around the cord ; for the second tie only one 



MONTHLY NURSING. 101 

turn is necessary. It should be tied firmly in two places, 
about an inch apart, and cut between them, about four 
or five inches from the child's abdomen. If the cord be 
thick and strong it should be tied as tightly as possible, 
but if it be slender and weak, care must be taken not to 
tie it so tight as to cut it. The cord is left thus long at 
first that there may be room for other ligatures in case of 
hemorrhage, and to guard against any part of the intes- 
tine of the child being included in the ligature. 

Care of the child. — If the child breathes with difiiculty 
the nurse should introduce the little finger into the 
mouth, to remove any mucus which may be present. 
Slapping the child on the back of the chest will help to 
clear the air passages. Shortly after the cord has been 
tied it should be examined to see that there is no 
hemorrhage from it. 

The child, wrapped in warm blankets, may now be 
laid aside or delivered into the hands of an assistant, 
while the attention is given more particularly to tlie 
mother. It should not, however, be left long without 
another examination. 

Gentle manipulation of the uterus through the abdo- 
minal walls, and downward pressure at the time of a 
pain will facilitate the separation of the after-birth from 
the uterus, and its expulsion from the uterine cavity. 
The nurse should in no case draw upon the cord. 

TJie after-birth. — The after-birth is sometimes expelled 
from the uterus but not from the vagina. The uterus 
may then be felt like a hard ball through the abdominal 
wall. When this is the case the after-birth may be re- 
moved by giving the cord one or two turns over the 



103 A MANUAL OF JSfDRSmO. 

fingers so that it may be firmly grasped, and drawing it 
very slightly, while the other hand, introduced into the 
vagina, grasps the after- birth itself, and gently re- 
moves it. If it does not come away readily, no force 
should be used, as it is probably not entirely separated 
from the uterine wall. Nothing further must be done 
at this time than to keep up the external manipulation, 
unless there be excessive hemorrhage. 

Hemorrliage, how to arrest it. — In case of violent 
hemorrhage, and the after-birth not yet removed, and no 
physician be present, the nurse, holding the cord firmly 
in one hand, must introduce the other into the vagina, 
follow up the cord and the after-birth, feel all around 
the latter until she comes to the place where it is at- 
tached; she must then separate it in such a way as to 
leave no portion of the after-birth attached to the uterus. 
After the after-birth has been expelled from the vagina, 
several turns of it should be made so as to twist slightly 
the membranes, as thus they are more likely to come 
away entire. 

If, after the delivery of the after-birth there is exces- 
sive hemorrhage, it may usually be controlled in the fol- 
lowing manner: Introduce several small pieces of ice 
into the vagina; wet the end of a towel in ice- water and 
quickly strike the abdomen of the patient; remove the 
pillows from under the head; the hips may even be 
slightly raised by a small hard pillow. Continue rub- 
bing the uterus externally; this should be done until it is 
felt as a firm, hard ball above the symphysis pubis. The 
hand should remain over the uterus even a little longer, 



MONTHLY NUBSINQ, 103 

to see that it remains small, or, in case of relaxation 
and enlargement, to manipulate as before. 

The soiled quilt may now be removed from under the 
patient, a clean and dry one substituted, and the bandage 
put on and pinned quite tightly. She may then be left 
to rest for half an hour while the child is being washed 
and dressed. During this time she should be perfectly 
quiet, and not be allowed to talk. 

The cJiild's bath.— The water for the child's bath 
should be of a temperature of about 98°. Not using a 
thermometer, the nurse must be careful to see that it is 
neither too hot nor too cold. 

The cord is now re-examined and again tied, this time 
about one and a half inches from the abdomen. 

If there is much cheesy matter on the child it may be 
removed the more easily if it is first rubbed with a little 
sweet oil. The child may be wrapped around with a 
warm flannel before putting it in the bath, and still 
wrapped in this flannel, the left hand under the head, the 
right under the hips, let it be gradually lowered into the 
water. A clean soft sponge, and white castile soap 
should be used for cleansing the child. It should not 
remain in the bath over five minutes, and when taken out 
must be wrapped in a warm blanket and gently dried. 
Care should be taken not to chill the child by exposure. 
The nurse will at this time see if there are any deformi- 
ties, especially if the anus and mouth of the urethra are 
open. 

To dress the navel.— To dress the cord, take a piece of 
soft linen three or four inches in diameter, and cut a hole 
in the centre about half an inch in diameter, then dip it 



104 A MANUAL OF miltSINO. 

in oil, put the cord through the hole, fold the linen over 
the cord, and lay the cord on the left of the median 
line. A small compress made of two or three folds of 
soft linen may then be laid over the whole, and the 
bandage put on, which will keep them in place. Then 
may follow the other garments of the child, which should 
be light, soft and warm. 

The child should be upon the side rather than upon 
the back, and may be changed occasionally from one side 
to the other. 

After-care of the child. — A little sweetened water may 
now be given the child if it is uneasy, and the mother be 
allowed a longer rest before nursing it. 

Nursing. — Nothing further should be given the child 
till after the mother has had the first sleep, usually five 
or six hours after labor, when it may be put to the 
breast. The nipple may be moistened with a little 
sweetened water, and the child will the more readily take 
hold of it. It is important that the child have the first 
milk, as it acts as a mild cathartic, freeing the intestine 
from the meconium, the dark substance which passes from 
the newly-born infant, and which has collected in the 
bowel in the last few weeks before birth. After this the 
child should be put to the breast regularly, once in about 
two hours. If it be delicate and takes but a small amount 
of nourishment, it may be nursed every hour and a half, 
while on the other hand, if it be well and hearty, once 
in three hours is often enough for it to nurse in the night, 
or when it is sleeping. 

If the nr.other is in good condition, nothing further 
will be required by the child until the appearance of the 



AtONTHLT NURSING, 105 

teeth. Some nurses and some mothers will be anxious 
that the child have an early dose of oil, and others will 
suggest various other doses with which they would com- 
bat or ward off an imaginary evil. But all these things 
are not simply useless, they are harmful, and tend to dis- 
order the digestion. 

The child should be put regularly to the breast even 
though but little milk be secreted; the glands are by this 
means stimulated to further secretion. If the appetite 
of the child seems not to be satisfied with what it obtains 
from the mother, after each nursing it may be fed with 
a little milk and water, slightly sweetened. A prepara- 
tion of one part of milk to two of water is very suitable 
for the new-born infant. This feeding will not usually 
be necessary for a longer time than one or two days. 

The healthy child may be bathed daily, immersing the 
body in warm water. Two minutes is long enough for 
it to remain in the water. Care must be taken to cleanse 
the child thoroughly at the time of the bath, and to dry 
it well afterwards. Where this is carefully done all 
chafing may usually be avoided, and no occasion offered 
for the use of the powder in which so many nurses delight. 

Poioder often injurious. — Powder, as it is often used, 
is injurious to the delicate skin of the child. The skin 
is provided with pores which Nature intended should be 
kept open. The aeration of the blood takes place through 
the skin as well as through the lungs, when the pores are 
not obstructed by powder or dirt. If the surfaces be- 
come chafed, in spite of all the care which has been used, 
they may be dusted with a little powder to prevent 
any friction, or, better still, a piece of soft linen smeared 



106 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

with mutton-tallow may be laid against them. Bathing 
with very diluted starch water is also useful. Equal care 
must be taken in cleansing the child after the diapers 
have been soiled. Diapers which the child has wet 
should not be dried for use a second time. The fresh 
diajDers should be previously warmed before putting 
them on a young child. Several may be kept ready for 
use wrapped around a bottle filled with hot water, where 
there is no other means of warming them. 

For the first five or six days the navel must be dressed 
as at first, or until the cord falls off, which is about this 
time. No force must be used to remove it, but it must 
be left to come away of itself. For a few days after it 
has fallen off a little piece of oiled linen and small com- 
press may be laid over the navel. 

Care of the mouth. — The mouth of the child should be 
washed occasionally during the day with a little piece of 
soft linen and cool water. If the tongue becomes white 
or the mouth at all sore, it should be washed after each 
nursing. The child should not be allowed to suck cloths 
wet with sweetened water, or, if fed from the bottle, it 
should be taken away after the child has finished, and 
not be allowed to remain in the mouth. 

The eyes. — If there be any discharge from the eyes, 
they must be carefully washed with a bit of soft linen. The 
nurse should bear in mind that this affection of the eyes is 
sometimes contagious, and sometimes becomes so serious 
that the eye-sight is lost. If only one eye is affected, 
she must be careful not to use the same water or cloth 
in washing the other eye. She must also take care not to 
convey any infection to her own eyes. 



MONTHLY NURSING. 107 

The bowels. — The bowels will move generally once; 
twice, or even three times a day. If constipated, a small 
suppository of soap introduced into the rectum will usu- 
ally produce a movement; if not, the nurse may give an 
enema of warm water with a little castile soap. This is 
better than to run the risk of disturbing the digestion by 
giving oil. 

Care of the feeble child. — The directions which have 
thus far been given have supposed the child to be born 
strong and well ; but as it often happens that the reverse 
is the case, the nurse must be prepared to care for the 
weak and feeble child whose hold upon life is as yet very 
slender. If the child be weak, whether it be from pre- 
mature birth, or other cause, it should be kept wrapped 
in cotton wool for the first few days of its existence, and 
hot bottles used as necessary to keep it warm. It will 
take but little nourishment at a time, and so must be fed 
oftener than the healthy child. A drop or two of brandy, 
or other stimulant, may be given with the food, but this 
will be prescribed by the physician, if necessary. The 
child may be of full term, large, and well developed, and, 
because of some pressure on the cord during labor, may, 
when born, be apparently dead. If the nurse be alone 
when such a child is born, her first efforts are to get it to 
breathe. She should first clear the mouth and throat of 
any mucus; then cold water may be dashed upon the 
face and chest, while the body is immersed in quite warm 
water. It may be laid upon its back and the arms lifted 
slowly up over the head, and back again to the sides, 
pressing firmly against the sides of the chest for a mo- 
ment, the object being to expand the chest, as in the act 



108 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

of inspiration. The nurse may fill her own lungs with 
pure air, and quickly blow into the mouth of the child, 
while the arms are raised and the chest expanded. When 
the child once begins to cry the lungs fill with air, and 
the threatened danger is averted. 

In any case the new-born child must not be left long 
without looking to see that it is breathing rightly, but, 
if feeble, it must be watched still more carefully. 

To whom shall the nurse give her first attention? — If the 
nurse chance to be alone, she may sometimes be at a loss 
to know to whom she must first give her attention after 
the birth of the child. If the child be breathing well, 
and the mother be having considerable hemorrhage, there 
can be no doubt that the latter needs her principal atten- 
tion ; but, on the other hand, the child may be feeble, and 
require her first attention, while the mother may not be 
in any danger ; but again, both mother and child may 
seem to have equal claims upon her, and then she must 
do the best she can for each. 

Diet of the mother. — For the first three or four days 
the mother is fed upon very light diet. As soon as she 
has had her first sleep she will be ready to take nourish- 
ment, which may consist of milk, gruel, a little toast and 
tea, or other like food. She will take but little food at 
any one time, and will require to be fed as often as every 
two or three hours. This should be brought to her at 
regular intervals without previously asking if she wishes 
it. If her wishes are consulted, she might decline taking 
food, but she will not usually refuse it when brought to 
her. All alcoholic stimulants should be avoided, as well 
as strong coffee and tea. This kind of diet is kept up 



MONTHLY NURSING. 109 

for one or two days ; after that, beef -tea or chicken 
broth may be added, or even a little meat. In a day or 
two she may take cooked fruit, as baked apples, and even 
some fruits, as peaches and grapes, may be eaten without 
cooking. After the first nine days, if doing well, the 
patient can take almost anything she would like, acid 
fruits, vinegar, pickles, and indigestible food being still 
withheld. 

The next day after confinement the nurse will give a 
vaginal injection of warm water containing a little car- 
bolic acid. This should be done twice a day for about 
ten days. If there is any odor to the discharge the in- 
jections should be continued for a longer time. The dis- 
charge, at first consisting of blood and mucus and some 
materials which are thrown off from the uterus, because 
no longer of use, continues for three or four weeks usu- 
ally, and sometimes longer. 

Use of catheter. — If the patient does not pass urine 
within twelve hours after labor, the catheter will require 
to be used for a few times. The bladder should be 
emptied twice during twenty-four hours. Before using 
the catheter the nurse will do well to try placing over the 
bladder a sponge wrung out of water as hot as the 
patient can bear it, also to squeeze a sponge wet in quite 
warm water over the parts, so that a small stream of 
water is made to run over the mouth of the urethra. 
This will, in many cases, enable the patient to pass the 
water herself. It is well to keep the catheter in a bowl 
of disinfectant fluid during the intervals of its use. See 
page 22. 

The bowels. — The bowels may move of themselves after 



no A MANUAL OF NUBSUSTO. 

two or three days, but usually not without an enema. 
This should be given after three days, and repeated every 
alternate day as long as the patient remains in bed. 
During the first nine days the patient must not sit up to 
empty the bladder or the bowels. 

If there has been a rupture of the perineum, and sub- 
sequent operation, it may be desirable that the bowels 
should not move for a week. In such a case the physi- 
cian in charge will give the nurse directions when to give 
the enema. 

Care of the breasts. — The nurse must see that the 
breasts are kept warm, and especially are not exposed to 
the air while the child is nursing. After nursing a cloth 
must be put over the breasts to prevent any milk which 
may escape from soiling the clothing. If it flows freely 
from the breasts a glass may be used to receive it. 

The breasts sometimes become quite full and hard, 
making it difficult for the child to nurse, while they con- 
tain much more milk than the child can take. Here the 
breasts should be emptied, and the profuse secretion of 
milk slightly checked by bandaging the breasts between 
the times of nursing. A little tow may be used to fill up 
the space between the breasts, so as to make the pressure 
even, and then a wide, straight bandage pinned snugly 
over them. But this engorgement and all further trouble 
with the breasts may be avoided by putting on the band- 
age in season before they become full. The breast-pump 
may be required to empty the breasts if they are allowed 
to become engorged. 

Do not rub the breasts. — The less handling the breasts 



MONTHLY NURSING. IH 

receive the better. The nurse should never rub them 
unless so directed by the physician. 

The nurse is never called upon to decide whether the 
mother should or should not nurse her child ; but where, 
for any reason, she is unable to do it, the breasts should 
be firmly bandaged the next day after confinement, so 
that the milk shall be kept from coming in. They 
should be kept thus firmly bandaged for a week. 

Care of the nipples. — The nipples should be washed 
in cold water after each nursing of the child. If 
cracked, after washing and drying, they should be 
painted with collodion, or the compound tincture 
of benzoin, or anything else which the physician may 
prescribe. If care be taken with the nipples from the 
first, these troublesome fissures may be avoided, but 
once existing, they are very difficult to heal. If nursing 
becomes a painful process to the mother because of the 
soreness of the nipples, they should be protected by a 
rubber shield. If there is much milk in the breasts they 
should be supported, as by a piece of roller bandage 
wiiich passes underneath the breast and over the opposite 
shoulder, or by a wide straight bandage around the 
chest, pinned tight enough that the patient feels the 
support. 

The child should be put to both breasts at the same 
meal; they may be thus kept from becoming engorged. 

Bathing of the mother. — Care must be taken in bathing 
the patient to expose only a small surface at a time, and 
to quickly sponge and dry it, using a good deal of fric- 
tion to prevent all possibility of taking cold. The room 
should be quite warm during the bath; it is well to have 



113 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

tlie temperature as high as 75° F. As a rule once in two 
days is often enough for the entire bath, but the hands 
and face may be washed twice daily, or as often as neces- 
sary, and the parts about the vulva cleansed carefully 
morninoj and niofht with carbolized water. As lono' as the 
patient is in bed she will usually experience great comfort 
from rubbing. It is especially important that the entire 
body be well rubbed at night. A good night's rest is 
often thus secured. 

If the patient is doing well she may sit up for half an 
hour on the tenth day; afterwards this time is gradually 
increased according to her strength. Care must be taken 
that she does not feel any chill when she first leaves 
the bed, also when she first goes out, which, under the 
most favorable circumstances may be about the third 
week. 

Importance of ventilation. — The observations which 
have been made on ventilation should be carefully fol- 
lowed by the monthly nurse. Pure air is never more 
necessary than in a case of this kind. It is important 
both for mother and child. All soiled clothing from the 
bed, mother and child should be taken at once from the 
room. While a sunny room is desirable, the light must 
be modified by curtains for the sensitive eyes of the new- 
born child. 

Artificial feeding of the child. — If the mother does not 
nurse the child it may be fed with cow's milk, using for 
the first month one part of milk to two of water, and 
about a half-teaspoonful of sugar to a half -tumbler of 
milk thus diluted. In the city many children will thrive 
well on condensed milk. One part of condensed milk to 



MONTHLY NURSING. 113 

ttn of water is sufficiently strong for a child during the 
first month. 

When a child is artificially fed the greatest care must 
he taken to keep all the utensils clean and sweet. The 
simplest kind of a nursing-bottle — a plain bottle with a 
rubber nipple — is the best. Anything more complicated 
is more difiicult to keep clean. When the child is being 
fed the bottle should be held by the nurse, and not left in 
the mouth while she attends to other matters. The milk 
may flow too fast and cause strangulation, or the nipple 
is liable to fall out of the mouth, and the child go to 
sleep without having taken sufficient nourishment. 

If the child does not have the first milk from the 
mother, which is laxative in character, and if the bowels 
do not move freely within twelve hours after birth, the 
nurse may give it a teaspoonful of sweet oil, or a third 
of a teaspoonful of aromatic syrup of rhubarb. 

Stomach-ache. — To relieve the pains in the stomach 
and bowels which afflict many little babies in a greater 
or less degree, and which are generally due to flatulence, 
the nurse may give it a little anise or fennel-seed tea. 
The cries of a young child are not always indicative of 
suffering. The nurse will generally be able to distin- 
guish the cries of pain from those of hunger. 

Sleep. — During the flrst few weeks the healthy child 
does little but nurse and sleep. If it nurses the mother, 
if not carefully watched, it will contract the habit of 
falling asleep with the nipple in its mouth, and soon get 
in the way of going to sleep in no other way. It will 
always stop to rest after sucking a few times, but the 
little naps which are allowed it must be of short duration, 



114 A MANUAL OF NURSmG, 

or it will prolong one meal until about the time for an- 
other. The child should be taught to sleep by taking it 
from the breast, after its hunger is satisfied, and laying 
it in the crib. The nurse should not accustom th(3 child 
to being ro(;ked in her arms or in a cradle. 



CHAPTER XI. 

NURSING OF SICK CHILDREN. 

J^J' EGJEJSSITY of habits of observation.— The habit of 
careful observation, so valuable in the nurse at all 
times, is especially necessary when she is called to the 
caro of sick children. Older people can describe many 
of their symptoms, so as to guide the physician in their 
treatment, but the report of the nurse who has used her 
eyes to the best advantage is of the greatest assistance 
in the case of a sick child. 

Mrst signs of ilbiess in a sick child. — The first mani- 
festation of any derangement of health in the infant or 
young child is very apt to be restlessness at night. The 
countenance, ordinarily so calm and placid in sleep, may 
be seen to be disturbed; the contracted brow, and the 
occasional workings of the features, express discomfort; 
or, the child may toss and turn uneasily from side to 
side, and sometimes cry out as if in pain; or, after a 
period of uneasiness, it may waken with a scream, and 
lie awake for some time, and the nurse find difticulty in 
soothing it. 

Again, it may be noticed that the child, which, when 
well, is in almost constant movement when awake, be- 

[115] 



IIG A MANUAL OF NURSING . 

comes more quiet, prefers to lie in the nurse's lap, or on 
the bed or couch, and takes little interest in the toys 
which usually give it delight. 

What can he learned from the cries of a child. — Much 
can be learned from the cries of a young child. The 
baby cries when it is hungry, but these cries are preceded 
by premonitory grunts, turning of the head to the side, 
and workings of the open mouth as if in search of the 
breast, which failing to find, the cry is one of disap- 
pointment and grief, aggravated by the pangs of hunger. 
It is unlike the sharp and sudden cry of pain. 

Pahiy how tnanifested. — When in pain the features 
will be more or less contracted, and often the legs are 
alternately drawn up, and then suddenly straightened 
out, and held quite stiif for a minute. The cries con- 
tinue until the pain is relieved. The pain sometimes 
seems to come on in paroxysms. The child will cry 
very hard for a few minutes, and then, after a short 
period of calm, will suddenly cry out as before. 

When the nurse is convinced that the child is suffer- 
ing pain, she should try to ascertain in which of the three 
great cavities of the body the pain is located — the abdo- 
men, chest or head. 

Pain in the bowels is accompanied by wriggling of the 
body, drawing up of the legs, clenching of the fists, and 
generally occurs before or after a movement. 

In inflammation of the lungs or air passages, the cry 
is at the time of coughing, and for a little time after. 
In pleurisy, the child experiences sharp pain on cough- 
ing, or on any movement of the body. 



NURSING OF SICK GUILD REN. 117 

With pain in the head, which comes from disease ol 
the brain, the child gives a single sudden shriek. 

Little children often suffer very severe pains from ear- 
ache, will cry loud and long, and cannot be comforted.* 

There is also the irritable cry of general uneasiness, 
which may generally be quieted by soothing treatment. 

Expression of the face. — The expression of the face 
varies somewhat in different diseases. In diseases of the 
stomach and bowels there is apt to be paleness and con- 
traction about the mouth ; the nostrils often dilate with 
each inspiration in diseases of the chest; in diseases of 
the brain the eyes and upper part of the face are more 
apt to be affected ; but in severe pain in any locality the 
whole face is likely to express it by its contortions. 

Posture^ and movements. — The positions w^hich the 
child seems naturally to take should be noticed, whether 
it lies on the side or on the back, whether it seems to 
prefer to have the head elevated, whether it keeps the 
head quietly in one position, or turns it restlessly from 
side to side, or is inclined to burrow it in the pillow. 
The hand is frequently carried to the head in head-ache 
or ear-ache, and to the mouth when the teeth are giving 
pain. 

Skin. — The temperature and color of the skin, its dry- 
ness or moisture, its smoothness, or the presence of any 
roughness or swelling, are points which may indicate 
health or disease. 

Advantages of a warm bath. — When a child begins to 

* Apply hot flannel to relieve the ear-ache of children. Do not 
use poultices. Avoid putting anything in the ear except by tho 
advice of the physician. 



118 A MANUAL OF NUHSINO. 

be fretful and uneasy, and to manifest some of the 
first signs of disturbance of the health, there are many 
advantages to be gained from putting it at once in a 
warm bath. The temperature of the body is very apt to 
be elevated from a slight cause, and the child seems hot 
and feverish, and serious illness is apprehended. The 
change which the warm bath will produce in these 
symptoms is often very great. It lowers the tempera- 
ture, thus quieting the sensitive nerves of the skin ; it 
relieves the pains of colic by relaxing muscular spasm, 
and the child falls into a calm and restful sleep, and 
often when it wakens all uncomfortable sensations will 
have vanished. Again, if the child has contracted any 
of the eruptive diseases to which young children are 
liable, it will generally be made manifest, as the heat 
and moisture tend to bring out the rash. 

Bath, how given.- — The water should be warm enough 
to feel comfortable to the child. After two or three 
minutes a little more hot water may be added. The 
bath should be given in a Avarm room, better before an 
open fire in cool weather, all possible exposure from 
draft or other source being guarded against. The child 
may remain in the bath about five minutes, and then be 
taken out and wrapped in a warm blanket. Hold it in this 
for a few minutes, while the blanket absorbs some of the 
moisture, and then substitute for the damp blanket a 
warm and dry one. But little further drying will be 
necessary, and the night-gown, previously warmed, can 
be put on, and the child will probably now enjoy a re- 
freshing sleep. 

The physician will sometimes order the cold batb 



NURSING OF SICK GHILDllEN. 110 

when the fever is high. By this means the temperature 
of the body may be brought down several degrees. 
Unless the nurse has received special orders about the 
time of the bath, she should not keep the child in the 
water over five minutes. The attempt should not be 
made to bring the temperature of the body down to 
normal, because it will still continue to fall after coming. 
out of the bath, and if this decrease should go on after 
the normal standard has been reached, there would be 
great danger of collapse — by which we mean the nervous 
system becomes so weakened by the change from a high 
temperature to one below^ normal, that reaction cannot 
be established. The temperature continues to fall, and 
death is the result. 

Some points in regard to fever. — When the child is 
suffering from fever it derives the greatest comfort from 
the warm bath ; sponging of the body in tepid water is 
also beneficial, but the immersion generally gives the 
most relief. This may be repeated several times a day 
when the skin becomes very hot and dry, and the child 
may be kept wrapped in blankets instead of dressing it, 
or, at most, only a single garment may be put on. 
Dressing is a process which children are not apt to enjoy 
under any circumstances, but which becomes a great trial 
if persisted in when they feel weak and fretful from 
sickness. 

When the child is hot and feverish it will will be very 
thirsty, and though it should not ask for water, the nurse 
should give it a little at a time and frequently, as a tea- 
spoonful every ten or fifteen minutes if it takes it 
eagerly. She may also give it now and then a bit of 



120 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

ice. The room should be well aired, and not too warm, 
The diet should be light, no solid food being given, ex- 
cept with the consent of the physician. A small quan- 
tity taken frequently is much better than a larger 
amount at longer intervals, for the digestive powers are 
weakened, and if too much work is put upon them, 
alarming symptoms will often manifest themseives. 
There is nothing better than milk to give sick children, 
and they are almost always fond of it, and may usually 
be allowed to satisfy themselves. Sometimes the nurse 
may notice that they drink it greedily, but vomit it 
almost immediately after. The thirst from which they 
are suffering makes them take it eagerly; less milk 
should then be given them, and it is also necessary to 
give it more diluted.* Bits of ice given frequently will 
relieve the thirst. 

Eruptive diseases. — There are various eruptive dis- 
eases which usually attack infants and young children, 
and from some of which comparatively few children 
escape. These are measles, scarlet fever, chicken pox, 
and certain rashes. From the first two of these are 
dangers to be apprehended, of which the nurse should 
be aware, that she may take care to avoid them. 

Measles. — In measles inflammation of the lungs and 
air passages are feared, so in this disease the greatest 
care must be taken to guard against exposure. Drafts 
of air are particularly dangerous. The temperature of 

* If a child throws up milk some time after it has been taken, 
which is not curdled, it shows that the digestion is impaired, for 
it would be full of curds if it had been acted upon by the gastric 
juice. 



NUKSING OF SICK CHILDItEN. 121 

ihe room should be kept at about 70° F. It should also 
be well ventilated. If necessary in ventilating the 
room screens may be used to protect the patient from 
draft. While the child must be kept warm, the cloth- 
ing must not be made burdensome. The eyes are often 
left weak after measles, and to avoid this the room 
should be kept only moderately light. During the fever 
the diet should be light — milk, arrowroot and gruel 
being the chief articles allowed. Only a little cold 
water should be taken at a time, but the patient may 
drink freely of hot lemonade, and certain teas — as flax- 
seed and saffron. When the fever and eruption have 
nearly disappeared, broths may be added to the diet ; 
boiled rice with milk, a baked apple or potato may be 
eaten, and the ordinary diet gradually resumed when 
the symptoms have entirely disappeared. But the child 
must still be kept in the same room, though feeling quite 
well, for a few days, and if the weather is at all cool a 
longer time yet must elapse before it can be allowed to 
go out of the house. 

Scarlet fever. — The same general directions as to tem- 
perature, ventilation and care against exposure which 
have been given for measles, are equally important in 
scarlet fever. If the fever is high, and the child com- 
plains of heat, the temperature of the room may fall a 
few degrees, the object aimed at being that the child 
shall feel no chill. After the fever has subsided, and the 
child is pale and weak, the temperature may be main- 
tained at 72°. Ventilation must not be forgotten. Pui'o 
air is here necessary to dilute the poisoned air of the 
room, which is loaded with the germs of the disease. A 
6 



123 A MANUAL OF NUBSINO. 

screen should be placed around the bed to protect from 
draft, and two opposite windows, or a window and a 
door, should be constantly open, and the most thorough 
ventilation secured. Any feeling of chill the nurse 
must guard against, even three or four weeks after the 
child is first taken sick. 

The diet, though usually somewhat more stimulating 
than in measles, will consist at first principally of milk, and 
the preparations of milk, and as the symptoms improve 
may be varied about the same as in measles. The same 
care must be used to keep the patient in the house for a 
long time, a month at least, after what seems a mild 
case of scarlet fever ; for it has been noticed that dropsy, 
one of the diseases which the physician most dreads in 
scarlet fever, occurs even more frequently after a mild 
than after a severe case. 

Precaution. — Measles and scarlet fever being contag- 
ious diseases, the patient should be isolated, and no one 
allowed in the room except those who have the care of 
the child. It should be remembered that the poison is 
often carried in the dress to other children who do not 
come near the room. Too much care cannot be taken 
not to spread either of the diseases, and especially scar- 
let fever. [See Prevention of Contagion, p. 20.] 

Diphtheria. — Diphtheria is a very dreadful disease af- 
fecting the air passages. All the precautions which have 
been given in the rules laid down for the prevention of 
contagion (see page 20) are never more necessary than 
in this disease. 

The discharges from the nose and throat are loaded 



miTMSmG OF SICK CHILDREN. 123 

with the infectious germs. Rags should be used for 
these discharges, which should be immediately burnt. 

One of the after effects of this disease is to produce 
more or less paralysis of the muscles of the throat, in- 
terfering with swallowing. This must be remembered 
after the patient has become convalescent, and food be 
given finely divided and in small mouthfuls, for death 
sometimes results from choking after the patient has 
nearly recovered. 

Important points in diseases of the lungs and air 
passages. — Chilling of the body from insufficient cloth- 
ing, too low a temperature of the nursery, or from 
exposure at the time of the bath, is the cause of most of 
the trouble arising from disease of the lungs or air 
passages. This cause is one which can usually be avoided 
with a little care. Remember then, the maxim, that 
prevention is better than cure, and study to protect the 
children from those injurious influences which may lead 
to serious results. Those who have the care of young- 
children do not always realize that they are responsible 
for most of the sufferings of the little people from sick- 
ness. If we would not willingly expose ourselves to 
sickness, can we too greatly condemn or too religiously 
avoid the carelessness which would cause a helpless baby 
or child to suffer ? 

A cold is thought to be a slight thing, yet since one 
cold makes the way easier for another, it should not be 
so considered. A cold in the head is a great inconve- 
nience to a nursing baby, interfering with its nursing 
sometimes to a serious extent. The sleep also becomes 
restless and disturbed. The warm bath will be found of 



124 A MANUAL OF NUHSINO. 

benefit, alter which tlie child must be kept warm. The 
nostrils may be lubricated with oil by means of a camel's 
hair brush. Very young children with a cold ought to 
be confined to the house for a few days, unless the 
weather be very mild, when they may go out during the 
middle of the day. If there be any feverish symptoms, 
the child should remain in the house. The warm bath, 
the modification of the diet according to the rules for 
fever, and suitable clothing, will usually be all the treat- 
ment necessary. 

Group. — Croup is a very alarming disease. There are 
two forms of the disease, usually called true and false 
croup, and though the symptoms of each are alarming, 
one is much less dangerous than the other. It is this 
latter form, the false croup, to which so many children are 
subject upon slight exposure. In either case the attack 
comes on so suddenly that it is very important that those 
who are with the child know liow they may relieve the 
distressing symptoms while anxiously waiting the arrival 
of the physician. These symptoms consist of a loud, 
barking cough, the voice becoming hoarse or whispering, 
and the breathing harsh and difficult. The child is really 
in danger of being suffocated. To a child two years old 
the nurse may give at once twenty or thirty drops of 
syrup of ipecac, and repeat it in ten minutes if the child is 
not relieved. The warm bath is also useful, and the foot- 
batli with mustard. The room should be warm, and the 
atmosphere may be made moist by keeping a kettle of 
water boiling on the fire. 

Care should be taken with the diet of a child who is 
subject to croup. It should never be allowed anything 



NUBSma OF SICK CHILDREN. 125 

but simple and easily digested food, the evening meal 
especially being light, consisting principally of bread and 
milk. 

In any inflammation of the lungs or air passages the 
child should be kept in a room the temperature of which 
should never be allowed to fall below 70° F,, but should 
ordinarily be higher tlian that. Flannel should be worn 
next the skin, and all exposure must be carefully avoided 
for a long time. To relieve the thirst, which will often 
be very great, a little water should be given frequently. 
The diet, which should always be light, will be pre- 
scribed by the jDhysician. When there is any fever it is 
better to keep young children in bed ; infants will want 
to be held sometimes in the lap, but they should be kept 
in bed the greater part of the time, and older children 
should be kept in bed though not very sick. A warm 
gown may be put on over the night dress, and they can 
amuse themselves, if so disposed, with books and toys. 

Diseases of the stomach and bowels. — Most of the dis- 
eases of the stomach and bowels take their origin from 
improper diet. Indigestion generally shows itself in an 
infant in a change in the stools. In health these are 
yellow, and of a uniform consistence, but one of the first 
signs of incomplete digestion is the appearance of white 
clots, the cheesy part of the milk which has not been 
digested. The passages soon become more or less green, 
and if the trouble is not arrested, they become thin 
and watery, and the number of passages becomes in- 
creased to four, six, or eight in twenty-four hours. 

Any of these symptoms show that the food is not in 
proportion to the digestive powers If the distui'bance 



126 A MANUAL OF NUBSINQ. 

is slight, a diminution in the amount of food, dihiting 
the milk, and giving less at a time, may enable the child 
to digest what it takes. If the trouble occur in a nurs- 
ing child who is at the same time taking other food, it 
should be restricted to the breast, unless the supply of 
milk be entirely insufficient. In warm weather infants 
need a drink of water now and then to make up for 
what they lose through pei'spiration. If the infant be 
bottle-fed, the trouble may have arisen from some care- 
lessness about the food given it, or the utensils may not 
have been properly cleansed, and the milk thereby have 
been made sour. 

When children are teething it is often necessary to 
make their diet lighter than ordinary. 

In the hottest weather a frequent cause of the diar- 
rhoea is the increased heat, which irritates the sensitive 
nerves of the skin, and finally exhausts them. This im- 
pression is transmitted to other parts of the nervous 
system, and the nutritive processes of the body are 
slackened, and the powers of digestion diminished. It 
is then that sponging of the body frequently in the 
course of the day is of the greatest benefit. It acts as a 
tonic to the exhausted nervous system. The bath, if re- 
peated several times during the day, should be of short 
duration. 

On the occurrence of diarrhoea in older children, 
the diet should be at once modified. Meat and 
vegetables should be discontinued ; the food taken 
should be of the simplest kind and that which 
is most easily digested. The milk should be 
boiled, and may be thickened with arrowroot, rice 



ifimsmG OF SICK cuildren. 127 

flour, or common wheat flour. Light broths may be 
allowed. Fruit should not be taken. 

Children who have diarrhoea should not be cut off from 
out-door air in pleasant weather. Infants may take their 
accustomed exercise, but older children must be kept 
more quiet. They must also be suitably clad. Even in 
hot weather, flannel, if thin and soft, will not usually be 
uncomfortable ; the gauze shirts should be worn, if 
nothing warmer is desired, though while sick a little 
warmer clothing than ordinary will not be burdensome. 

In the more severe troubles with the stomach and 
bowels the physician will give very careful directions, 
which the nurse will follow with exactness. Rest and 
quiet are of the greatest importance. The child must 
be kept in bed ; the horizontal position is better than 
the sitting posture, though the latter may be preferred. 
Fretting and worrying must not be allowed. The nurse 
must see that the child keeps warm. If the hands, feet, 
or nose become cool, the body should be wrapped in 
warm blankets ; hot bottles may be put to the feet, and 
hot flannels appplied over the abdomen. Not much 
water should be taken at a time, but enough to quench 
the thirst may be allowed. When the child becomes 
better the diet may be increased, but with moderation. 

Constipation. — Constipation is much less common 
among children ; yet it is sometimes found. It may 
however usually be controlled by a proper attention to 
the diet. If existing in a nursing child, the mother 
should eat laxative food, or if this does not suflice, a little 
oatmeal gruel, strained and very thin, may be given to 
the child. 



128 A MANUAL OF mTRSINQ. 

In older children oatmeal gruel, taken especially in the 
morning, and an avoidance at all times of concentrated 
foods, plenty of out-door air and exercise, will be all 
that is necessary in most cases. When a movement of 
the bowels is desirable, an enema is better than purga- 
tive medicines, for it should be remembered that the 
after effect of most purgative medicines is constipating, 
and they should therefore be avoided if possible. Rhu- 
barb is less objectionable on this account than many 
other substances. 

Diseases of the nervous system. — In any disease of the 
nervous system there is increased susceptibility to im 
pressions ; this is sometimes so great that a child is 
thrown into convulsions upon sudden movement. In 
disease of the brain there is increased susceptibility to 
light and sound. The room must therefore be kept 
quiet and darkened. The child must be moved as little 
as possible, and, when necessary, with the utmost gentle- 
ness. No quick or sudden movements should be made 
near the child. Loud talking should not be allowed in 
the room. The nurse should observe what things seem 
to disturb the child, and avoid them, if possible. Clean- 
liness must not be omitted ; but a part of the body 
should be sponged at a time, and softly dried, with as 
little annoyance to the child as possible. 

Convulsions. — Some children are liable to convulsions 
from derangement of the digestion and other causes. 
They occur not infrequently when a child is teething. 
The attack is often preceded by involuntary movements 
of the mouth or eyelids ; then the eyes become fixed 
and the body rigid ; the breathing is irregular, often 



NUIiBING OF SICK CHILDREN. 129 

suspended for .i few moments, and the face and surface 
of the body becomes dark red or livid. This condition 
is generally quickly followed by twitching or jerking of 
the limbs, and more often the arms than the legs com- 
mence a series of short, rapid movements ; there are also 
twitchings of the muscles of the face. 

Upon the first sign of the attack the nurse should 
prepare a warm bath for the child ; the clothes should 
be at once loosened, and entirely or partially removed, 
and the child immersed in warm water ; at the same 
time cold Avater may be applied to the head. The child 
may be kept in the bath ten or fifteen minutes, if the 
convulsions continue so long, more hot water being added 
as necessary to keep the temperature at about 98'\ 
After the bath, wrap the child in a warm blanket for a 
short time. The attack may be repeated, in which case 
the warm bath should be used as before. Quiet nursing 
is of the utmost importance in the after treatment. 

St. Vltus^ dance. — An irritable condition of the 
nervous system sometimes shows itself in convulsive 
movements of different muscles of the body, known as St. 
Vitus' dance. These movements are generally increased 
by emotion, or fatigue, also by the consciousness that 
they are observed ; hence, in the care of such a child, 
all causes of agitation should be avoided. It should not 
be allowed to play much with other children. It should, 
however, have cheerful surroundings, plenty of out-door 
air, and exercise, but not enough of the latter to get too 
tired. Hygiene is an important element in the treat- 
ment. 

Paralysis. — Paralysis is an affection of tlic nervous 
6* 



130 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

system which sometimes occurs in young children 
Those who are so unfortunate require almost constant 
care from the nurse that they do not suffer in their 
general health from lack of air and exercise. They 
should be kept much in the open air, and systematic 
friction must be used with the affected part, which, by 
increasing the circulation, that is always somewhat 
diminished, helps to keep up the nutrition and prevent 
wasting. The temperature of the paralyzed limb is 
usually a little lower than that of the rest of the body ; 
it should therefore be more warmly clothed. 

Diseases of nutrition. — Rickets. — Rickets is a disease 
of nutrition, caused principally by a lack of suitable food 
in infancy and early childhood, and aggravated by un- 
hygienic influences, as impure air or water, and unwhole- 
some and filthy surroundings. The occurrence of too 
frequent pregnancies in the mother is a common cause 
of rickets among children. This cause acts upon the 
child before birth — the mother being weak and already 
unable to nourish the child, and after Hbirth the milk is 
poor in quality and incapable of supplying the wants of 
the system. In this disease the bones of the body are 
imperfectly developed. They contain less of the salts 
of lime, and remain soft and easily bent long after they 
ought to be quite hard and well formed. Children with 
this disease are slow to begin walking, and they should 
not be encouraged to walk too soon, for, as the bones are 
soft, they easily bend under the weight of the body, and 
the child soon presents the deformity of bow-legs. To 
guard against other deformities, the child must not be 
allowed to sit up long at a time, and when lying down, 



NURSmO OF SICK CHILDREN. 131 

should rest upon a lirm, smooth mattress, with the head 
not much elevated. The child should be suitably and 
warmly clad, and sliould be taken much into the open 
air and sunlight. Baths and friction of the skin are 
very important. The child must have nourishing diet, 
consisting of food suitable to the age, plenty of milk, 
and when the teeth have not yet made their apj)earance, 
it may be given a little beef juice ; and later, tender 
meat, rarely cooked. The diet should consist largely of 
animal food. Vegetables should be partaken of spar- 
ingly, and potatoes prohibited. 

Consumption. — There are other conditions of defec- 
tive nutrition. Perhaps the most common is found in the 
children of consumptive parents, who early show signs 
of delicate health. Such children need careful training 
to prevent the development of the dreadful disease — 
consumption. Suitable food and clothing, air and exer- 
cise are necessary, and especially regular and appropriate 
gymnastic exercises to counteract the defective develop- 
ment of the chest, which usually exists in these cases. 
All possible care must be taken not to expose them to 
the common diseases of childhood — measles and whoop- 
ing cough. 

SOME POINTS IN REGARD TO THE HYGIENE OF CHILDREN. 

Diet. — The nursing infant needs nothing except the 
motlier's milk until the appearance of the first teeth. If 
the mother's milk seems insufficient to satisfy the child, 
it may be fed also on cow's milk from the spoon or bottle. 
Nursing must not be broken off too abruptly, and great 



132 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

care must be taken to prepare the food of the child, so 
that it shall be suited to the strength of the digestive 
organs. It is generally found better to wean the child 
first from day nursing, while the mother still continues 
to nurse it once in the evening and again later in the 
night. In the morning we may give gruels or light por- 
ridge made with milk and water, and any of the follow- 
ing substances : — Arrowroot, rice flour, wheat flour dried 
in the oven, and oatmeal. Gruel from the latter should 
be strained. These may be varied according to the pre- 
ference of the child, or the condition of the bowels : if 
inclined to be constipated, oatmeal is useful ; if relaxed, 
gruel from rice flour is better. Cow's milk with bread 
or crackers may also be given. Milk, however, is the 
principal article of food up to the age of eighteen 
months, and all through the i^eriod of childhood should 
enter largely into the diet. 

The cliild should ordinarily be weaned at from twelve 
to fifteen months. By this time the stomach has become 
accustomed to other food, and will not suffer from the 
deprivation of the breast milk. It is desirable that a 
child under one year of age be nourished at the breasts 
during the hot months ; 'especially if living in the city 
it is often disastrous to make any change. 

When the child has teeth enough to masticate it, it 
may be fed a little finely-divided, tender meat once a 
day, and even before this it may be given a little beef 
juice or animal broth. 

The food of children should always be jjlain, — rich, or 
highly-seasoned food being prohibited. Tea or coffee 
should not be given them. Sugar is not injurious, used 



NURSING OF SIGK CHILDREN. 133 

with moderation, but should not be eaten too often, or it 
will be likely to diminish the appetite. Salt is the only- 
condiment which children need, and this is really an 
essential article of food. Children will occasionally like 
a little salt in the water which they drink, and it often 
seems to increase the appetite when it is delicate. 

The meals of children should be arranged with regu 
larity, and they should not be allowed to cat between 
meals ; only it must be remembered that they will re- 
quire a larger number of meals than the adult. The 
evening meal should be light, consisting of bread and 
milk, or similar food. 

Air. — Children need pure air, and plenty of it. Their 
sleeping apartments should always be well ventilated. 
As soon as an infant is a month old it may be taken out 
in the open air every day, for a short time if it be in the 
coldest season, for they are very susceptible to the cold, 
though well wrapped in flannels, but they maj^ remain 
out much longer in warm weather. When children are 
old enough to engage in active sports, they may spend 
most of the day in the open air if the weather is pleas- 
ant, and the weather is seldom stormy enough to keep 
them in the house all day. 

Exercise. — Children will get exercise if they are only 
allowed to do so, or if it is not made difficult or impos- 
sible by clothing which restrains all natural movement. 
It should not be supposed that little girls require less ex- 
ercise than little boys. 

Clothing. — Much could be said about the clothing of 
children, but all might perhaps be briefly summed up. 
Only a little common sense is needed to make children 



134 A MANUAL OF NUESING, 

very comfortable. The fashion of their garments should 
be such as not to restrain all free and natural movement, 
adapted also to the season and the weather. 

Baths. — A cold bath every morning will render a child 
much less susceptible to external influences, and much 
less liable to take cold upon slight exposure. The infant 
should have warm baths, but these can gradually be 
made a little cooler, until at eighteen months or two 
years the child enjoys a cold bath. The bath is often a 
needless torture to a child, because not well managed. 
It should be short, of no more than two minutes' dura- 
tion, and followed by friction until reaction is estab- 
lished, and the skin is glowing with warmth. Then the 
dressing should be accomplished as quickly as possible. 

Sleep. — When the child is put in the crib from the 
first, without previously rocking, good habits of sleep are 
formed, and there is no further trouble. But sometimes 
when an infant has been sickly or delicate, those who 
have the care of it are suddenly surprised to find that it 
has contracted the habit of going to sleep in the arms 
or on the lap. If the child is seriously sick, principles 
must be laid aside, if necessary. If delicate, it may be 
drawn about the house for diversion and change of 
scene. Good habits are really more important to such a 
child than to one who is more robust. It seems a kind- 
ness to a delicate child to hold it in the lap, or to rock 
it to sleep, but it is easy to get it into the way of sleep- 
ing so lightly that it will waken when laid into the crib, 
or if it does not feel the warmth of some person beside 
it. Such sleep is much less refreshing than that of the 
child with well-regulated habits, and the result is the 



NURSmQ OF SICK CHILDREN, 135 

child becomes constantly peevish and irritable. But if 
bad habits have been insidiously formed, they cannot bo 
gradually broken off. At the proper time the child must 
be put in bed and left there. Its cries must be resisted, 
and in a few days it will fall asleep at once. 

Young children need a great deal of sleep. They 
should go to bed early. Eight o'clock is not too eai'ly 
for children under ten years of age. Excitement should 
be .avoided in the evening. 



CHAPTER XII. 
COOKING FOR THE SICK. 

npHE general principles which lie at the foundation of 
the art of cooking must be well understood by the 
nurse, but cannot be taught in the compass of this little 
work. Indeed some practical work in the kitchen under 
a competent instructor is necessary, and this branch of 
instruction is not neglected in the Bellevue Training 
School. 

The nurse must know that in cooking meat it is impor- 
tant to lose as little as possible of its properties ; but 
meat which is to be used for beef-tea, soups, or broths is 
treated in just an opposite way, for it is desired to ex- 
tract the nutritious juices. Flesh of young animals is 
more tender but less digestible than that of animals of 
middle age. Mutton taxes the weak stomach less than 
beef. Pork is very difficult to digest, and therefore not 
suitable for the sick. Shell fish are generally regarded 
as indigestible ; but oysters are nutritious, and are often 
well adapted for use in the sick room, and are quite easy 
of digestion if taken raw. Milk and eggs are very 
valuable foods ; the latter should never be cooked until 
the white of the Ggg is hard. Eggs should never be 
boiled, but should be put into a dish of boiling water 

[136] 



COOKING FOR THE SICK 



187 



and immediately covered. The dish should be removed 
from the fire, and the eggs will be well cooked in five 
minutes. Gruels require very thorough cooking. 

The following is a table of the time taken to digest 
certain articles of food : — 



Hours to digest 


One pound of 


3 


Meat. 


SH 


Cheese. 


2 


Milk. 


3 


Eggs. 


4 


Veal. 


4 


Fowls. 


4 


Pork. 


1 


Tripe. 


SK 


Bread. 


sH 


Potatoes, boiled. 


2 


Potatoes, roasted. 


4K 


Cabbage. 


2H 


Beans. 



BECEIPTS. 

Beef-tea. — Cut the meat of a rump-steak into fine 
dice (having first removed all skin, fat and gristle), put 
it into a large-mouthed bottle, add a little salt, cork it 
tightly, put it in a saucepan of cold water, and let it boil 
for six hours ; then skim, strain, season, and serve it hot. 

Quick way of making beef -tea. — Half a pound of beef 
chopped fine and soaked for ten minutes with a little 
salt in cold water, then put on the fire at the back of the 



138 A MANUAL OF NURSING, 

range, so that it may come very slowly to the boiling 
point. Let it boil three minutes, and then serve hot. 

Beef juice. — Score and broil one minute pieces of beei 
about the size of the palm of the hand. Express the 
juice in a lemon squeezer. Add a pinch of salt, and be- 
fore serving make it hot. One pound of beef makes 
three tablespoonfuls of juice. 

Sago and beef-tea. — After washing thoroughly two 
tablespoonfuls of pearl sago, put it to soak in one-half pint 
of water, and then stew it in the same water for one 
hour. Mix with it half a pint of boiling cream and the 
beaten yolks of two eggs, and mingle the whole with a 
pint of beef-tea. This should be made just as the 
patient needs it, as soups with cream or milk are apt to 
curdle. 

JEgg nogg. — The yolk of an egg beaten, a tablespoon- 
ful of boiling water stirred into a wineglass of cream, 
and a tablespoonful of sugar. The white beaten very 
light and stirred in, and last of all, a half wineglass of 
rum and half wineglass of sherry with a little nutmeg on 
the top ; serve at once. 

N'ourishing mutton chop. — Take three mutton chops and 
broil them together, so that the juice of the upper and 
under ones go into the middle one, which is the chop 
you are to give to your patient. You must always broil 
by a very bright hot fire. 

Plain boiled bread and milk. — Put stale bread into a 
basin, the pieces of equal size ; boil a pint of milk and 
pour over the bread, cover the basin with a plate for ten 
minutes, the bread will then be evenly soaked ; a little 
sugar may be added. 



COOKING FOR THE 8I0K. 139 

Oatmeal or Indian meal gruel. — Mix the meal smooth- 
ly with cold water, and then stir it into hoiling water, 
previously salted ; a pint of water to two or three 
tablespoonfuls of oatmeal or Indian meal, accordingly 
as you wish the gruel thick or thin. Boil two hours. 

Caudle is oatmeal gruel with raisins boiled in the 
water, and a little wine or brandy added ; a little sugar 
and some spices. 

To poach an egg. — Have ready a saucepan of boiling 
water ; break an ^^'g carefully into a tea-cup, so that the 
yolk is not burst, and put the tea-cup into the saucepan. 
Let it simmer for three minutes, and then take it out 
very carefully. Bread toasted lightly should be placed 
in the dish or plate, and the q^^ slipped upon it from 
the cup. 

White wine whey. — Put half a pint of new milk, slightly 
sweetened, into a saucepan, and boil it ; the moment it 
rises, while still on the fire, pour in a small glass of white 
wine. Let it boil up again, and set the saucepan on the 
side till the curd forms one lump ; be careful not to stir 
it ; the whey will pour off free from the curd. 

Arrowroot. — A dessertspoonful of arrowi'oot will 
thicken about half a pint of water. Mix the arrowroot 
in a little cold water, then add by degrees the half 
pint of boiling water, stirring it all the time until it is of 
a pleasant thickness ; boil for five minutes ; put a little 
wine or brandy in it, sweeten with lump sugar, and grate 
a little nutmeg on the top. Boiling milk may be used 
instead of water. 

Corn starch and farina may be made in the same way 
as an'owroot. 



140 A MANUAL OF NURSING. 

Tapioca, sago, and semolina should be soaked in cold 
water for five or six hours, then simmered in the same 
water until the grains are clear. Eggs and milk may be 
added to the tapioca, &c., and a little sugar, after which 
it may be boiled or baked. 

WEIGHTS AND MEASURES. 

gr.j = 1 grain. 

3j =20 grains = one scruple. 

3 ss =30 grains = half a drachm. 

3 i =60 grains = one drachm. 

3 ss =4 drachms = half an ounce. 

3 j =8 drachms = one ounce. 

mj = one minim = one drop. 

f 3 i =60 minims = one fluid drachm = one teaspoon- 
ful. 

f 3 ii =2 fluid drachms = one dessertspoonful. 

f g ss = 4 fluid drachms = one tablespoonful. 

f I i =8 fluid drachms = one fluid ounce = 2 table- 
spoonfuls. 

f I ii =2 fluid ounces = one wineglassful. 

Oj = one pint = 20 ounces. 



IMPORTANT THINGS FOR EVERY NURSE TO REMEM 
BER WHEN SHE GOES TO PRIVATE CASES. 



Remember to be extremely neat in dress ; to have the hair 
smooth, and caps and aprons clean ; a few drops of hartshorn in 
the water used for daily bathing will remove the disagieeable 
odors of warmth and perspiration. 

Never speak of the symptoms of your patient in his presence, 
unless questioned by the doctor, whose orders you are always to 
obey impliciUy. 

Remember never to be a gossip or tattler, and "always to hold 
sacred the knowledge w^hich, to a certain extent, you must obtain 
of the private affairs of your patient, and the household in which 
you nurse." 

Try to give as little trouble to the servants as possible, and 
make them feel that you have come to help them in the extra 
work that sickness always brings. 

Never contradict your patient, nor argue with him, nor let 
him see that you are annoyed about anything. 

Never wliisper in tlie sick room. If your patient be well 
enough, and wishes you to talk to him, speak in a low, distinct 
voice, on cheerful subjects. Don't relate painful hospital experi- 
ences, nor give details of the maladies of former patients, and 
remember never to startle him with accounts of dreadful crimes 
or accidents that you have read in the newspapers. 

Write down the orders that the physician gives you as to time 
for giving the medicines, food, &c. 

[141] 



143 A MANUAL OF NUBSINt^. 

Give an account of your patient to the physician in as few 
words as possible. 

Keep the room bright (unless the doctor orders it darkened). 

Let the air be as pure as you can, airing it from outside, ** as 
windows are made to open." 

Keep everything in order, but without being fussy and bustling. 

The only way to remove dust is to wipe everything with a 
damp cloth. 

Remember to carry out all vessels covered. Empt}'- and wash 
them immediately, and keep " Girondin," or some other disin- 
fectant, in them. 

Remember, that to leave the patient's untasted food by his side, 
from meal to meal, in hopes that he will eat it in the interval, is 
simply to prevent him from taking any food at all. 

Medicines, beef -tea or stimulants, should never be kept where 
the patient can see them, or smell them. 

Remember " that we have no power of ourselves to help our- 
selves," but that God is ever willing to grant us strength to 
perform our duties, if we pray to Him in the name of oui 
Blessed Saviour. 



NOTE,— See page 25. 



TEMPERATURE AND PULSE. 

To measure the temperature of the body the thermom- 
eter is used, and is placed usually under the tongue, 
where it should remain with the lips closed for five 
minutes. It is sometimes placed in the axilla, and 
sometimes, especially with young children, in the groin or 
rectum. The temperature taken in the axilla in the 
healthy person is about 985° ; taken in the mouth or 
rectum it is about one-half a degree higher. A higher 
temperature than this, shows a greater or less degree of 
fever. 

The radial artery at the wrist is most convenient for 
counting the pulse. In healthy adults, the number of 
beats often varies, ranging usually from 72 to 78 per 
minute in different persons. The pulse is always a little 
more rapid in children. 

[143] 



'ilSrPS 



iii i, »SW, 




